Crimson and Gold
by Witch Lisa
Summary: Hermione returns after a three month absence to find things not quite as she left them. COMPLETE! Author notes edit, no new chapters.
1. Three months

Three months.  
  
It hit him like a rogue bludger - right in the gut.  
  
Three months.  
  
Today was three months, thought Harry, as he looked at the empty seat across from him at the Gryffindor table. Glancing at the slumped, red- haired figure next to him, Harry knew that Ron had also noticed the inauspicious anniversary. December fifteenth. The third month that she had been gone, the last day of classes before the holidays, ten days until Christmas, five days until the Hogwarts Express would take them to the Burrow for the holidays - and yet one more day of not knowing.  
  
Ron sat up straight, hastily wiped unshed tears from his eyes and reached for another drumstick - even though there were three uneaten on his plate. He cleared his throat and absent-mindedly peeled the skin from the roasted piece of chicken.  
  
"So, anyway, Mum wanted to know if the Dursley's were getting you anything for Christmas this year," Ron said. Harry's answering snort of mirth answered the question for him. He wrenched his attention from his work on the chicken leg to look at Harry, with a smile that didn't quite make it to his warm eyes.  
  
"I think it was her subtle way of asking what you wanted for Christmas," continued Ron.  
  
Green eyes met brown as both young men realized that they only wanted one thing for their final Christmas as Hogwarts students .  
  
They wanted Hermione back.  
  
***  
  
Hermione, Ron and Harry had been trudging happily back from Hogsmeade on September 15 when it happened. It was a fairytale day of silly fun, shopping and far too much butterbeer.  
  
Harry and Ron had insisted on buying Hermione a new gown and dress robes at Gladrags in honor of her eighteenth birthday. Gryffindor crimson and gold, in the most delicate of silks, the gown accentuated curves that the boys hadn't realized their "other third" had developed. As Hermione modeled the outfit they were buying, two Adam's apples bobbed in unison and two pairs of eyes were opened. Their Hermione was a girl - no, scratch that - Hermione was a woman. Not beautiful by Muggle movie star standards by any means, but to those who knew her heart - a stunningly amazing young woman. She shook her head and smiled at the dumbstruck looks on their faces as she turned to step back into the dressing room.  
  
"Whoa, Harry, did you -- ? I mean, she doesn't look like that all the ti - Well, what the bloody hell was that?" Ron stammered, as Harry began to chuckle. "Shut up, Harry! I saw you looking at her. You can't believe that she's a girl, either!"  
  
"Surely we're not the only gits that didn't notice, are we?" said Harry. "Is it just because she's our friend, I wonder? Do you think that she's even -- you know? Done it yet? Maybe she isn't interested in a serious relationship, but still I wonder why she hasn't even dated anyone since Krum?"  
  
Ron shook his head and opened his mouth to reply, but was abruptly stopped by a dangerously soft hiss at his neck.  
  
"Perhaps, Mr. Potter, she hasn't had a chance to meet a wizard who can truly appreciate her talents and abilities," spat Professor Snape, harshly. "Sex and appearances are not the most important things in a relationship, you should know. In addition, having you two - heroes - as her unofficial honor guard can't be conducive to any potential se-"  
  
"Potential what, Professor Snape?" said Hermione as she exited the dressing room, gown and robes in hand.  
  
Snape stood silent and looked trapped for a moment, something the trio allowed themselves to briefly enjoy. Quietly, of course. Snape's eyes darted to the red and gold material Hermione held and then slid up to her eyes for a long, uncomfortable moment.  
  
"Potential what, Professor Snape?" repeated Hermione, irritation and amusement warring for possession of her brown eyes.  
  
"Potential romance, Miss Granger," snapped Snape. "Romance. I will leave you three to your shopping. Please take care not to be late for dinner."  
  
Snape stepped aside with a small bow to Hermione and a flourish of his robes, then turned to examine a rack of men's waistcoats - black, of course. The trio paid for their purchase and moved to leave the clothing store.  
  
"Miss Granger."  
  
Hermione turned to look at Professor Snape, who stood stiffly with his hands in his pockets.  
  
"Yes, Professor?"  
  
"When you return to Hogwarts, would you please come by my office, I have something of importance I would like to discuss with you. Will you please -- remember?" Snape said, staring intently at some point in the distance, just above Hermione's left ear.  
  
"Of course, Professor."  
  
With a nod to their professor, the trio left the store, shaking their heads at Snape's very un-Snapelike behavior. After a few butterbeers and one accident with a Filibuster's Firework that left a rather embarrassing blast hole in Ron's jeans, they were walking home to Hogwarts, enjoying the fall sunshine and talking about Quidditch and food.  
  
And suddenly, Hermione was gone. Not a sound marked the vanishing. Just a frightened sharp gasp from the three people left standing on the path to Hogwarts. Ron and Harry turned to look behind them into the stunned face of Professor Snape, before the three silently began to run to the castle and the Headmaster's office.  
  
***  
  
Stop it, thought Harry, shaking his head to clear it of the unwanted memories. Ron's hand briefly came to rest on his shoulder and the two young men smiled grimly at each other. It wasn't getting any easier without her, but they would survive. Somehow.  
  
Two parts of the trio that was turned back to their lunches listlessly, relieved beyond belief when it was time to head for the coldness of the dungeons and Potions class. At least in Professor Snape's class, there was little time for introspection or the depressing thought that their Christmas dreams may not come true.  
  
There was also something oddly comforting in the fact that although the world of the Dream Team had been turned upside down - Snape was still an utter bastard.  
  
And for that, Harry was improbably grateful. 


	2. Seventeen years

Nearly seventeen years.  
  
Staring at the picture of the smiling and ridiculously happy couple on the fireplace mantle yet again, it hit him - it had been nearly seventeen years.  
  
Nearly seventeen years.  
  
No, that can't be right - Is it? Seventeen years since she left the first time. Or is that the second time? Which counts as the first? Now or the past? Is it twenty years? And which was real? Or was it all just one giant bad dream with a few time-outs for Voldemort's special brand of nasty entertainment? Where did she go - the -- well, the second time? Why can't he find her?  
  
The man set down the glass of whiskey he had so recently drained with a thump. This line of thought was getting him nowhere and being half drunk wasn't helping.  
  
"Gods," whispered Severus Snape as he viciously rubbed his raw eyes, "time travel gives me a headache."  
  
A girlish giggle interrupted his musings on time, space and various theories of both.  
  
He raised his eyes once again to the picture of a giggling and grinning bride and groom and couldn't decide if the day that picture had been taken had been the best day of his life - or the worst. The two nineteen-year- olds captured by a wizarding camera were resplendent in their wedding clothes, flowers and veil in her hair, new rings shining on their hands and huge smiles on their faces. If you looked closely, as Snape had done so many times over the nearly twenty years since the picture had been taken, you could see traces of Muggle wedding cake and frosting clinging to the bride's hair and veil and just a tad was smeared onto the groom's new robes.  
  
***  
  
She had talked him into it all those years ago. A hybrid wizard-Muggle wedding. She wanted the flowing white gown and veil that she had dreamed of since girlhood. His family would have insisted on nothing less than wizard vows. Truthfully, he would have preferred to find a way to just have Albus or someone, anyone, marry them quietly. A private ceremony for a very private act, he mused. How exactly did becoming one turn into a production on the scale of the Quidditch World Cup? But, as she had done with everything else in their relationship over the past year - she won. And when he saw her walking down the aisle in the Great Hall at Hogwarts on Flitwick's arm, absolutely angelic and radiant in her rather silly meringue of a wedding gown, he realized that she was right. Their wedding day was perfect and the rest of their lives would be too, if he had any say in it. He told her as much when he took her in his arms for a traditional Muggle first dance.  
  
"Oh, wait, I forgot, I have no say," he chuckled as the whirled around the Great Hall to some Muggle tune. "I don't think I've been in charge since you cornered me last fall to help you with your potions NEWTS. Except for maybe the night we first made love, or you at least let me think it was my idea."  
  
Brown eyes lit up at the memory.  
  
"It was your idea, love. I am so glad that I found you when I got to Hogwarts, Severus," she said. "I was so lost, I never thought I could be happy again. I needed you to be my friend and instead, I found a lover and a husband."  
  
"Found me? You hounded me! You practically stalked me in the library and the hallways!" Black eyes joined brown in the merriment. "I had no choice but to befriend you. I swear I'll never understand why you set your sights on me, my love. I think you're the only girl in our year that ever gave me a second glance. Well, except Mabelanne Goyle - and I'm not entirely convinced she isn't really a man!"  
  
His bride laughed.  
  
"Let's just say that when I - transferred to Hogwarts, and I met you, I felt like I had come home. As if - maybe as if we already knew each other. I can't explain it - "  
  
"No more, I'm sure, than you can explain your mysterious past?" one eyebrow quirked to the ceiling at this thinly veiled jibe. He was joking, but they both knew her reluctance to talk about her life before her seventh year at Hogwarts was a sore spot in their otherwise trusting relationship.  
  
"Severus, not today, please. I promise one day to tell you everything. I just need to wait. I've discussed this with Professor Dumbledore at length and we just feel -"  
  
"Yes, yes, it's best to wait for now. Just promise me there is no jealous husband or horde of babies somewhere that have claim to you? I'd prefer to not have to explain it to my parents someday - or worse, our children," he sighed in resentment and resignation. "Hermione? I'll wait, but someday, you'll have a lot of explaining to do. Hopefully soon."  
  
***  
  
Back in the dungeons, the memories became too strong. And the man that could face down Voldemort without flinching crumpled to the floor, clutching the wedding photo in its frame.  
  
"Dammit! Why didn't she tell me? I could have handled it better when she left. I could have been prepared for the feelings that hit me when she stepped onto the stage to be Sorted. I could have handled my emotions better when she sat in my class - my wife a mere child, for Merlin's sakes! How was I supposed to handle that?" he raged, staring into the fire.  
  
Shifting his glance to the picture, his gaze and tone softened with regret.  
  
"My love, if I had only known I could see you again, as a child or a woman," he whispered to the photo of the smiling bride, "I would have never listened to Voldemort. Never become a Death Eater. Never ruined my li-"  
  
Severus Snape abruptly stood and carefully placed the photo on the mantel once again. He stalked back to his worktable, picked up the abandoned bottle of whiskey and poured another glass. He threw back one glassful. Then two. Then three. There. That was enough to keep the memories away for the night.  
  
Snape strode to his bedroom and opened the wardrobe, searching for a snug pair of pajamas to wear. Something comforting and cozy, if he couldn't share his bed with his wife any longer, at least he could be warm, he mused. Since she left, he had developed a liking for Muggle pajamas and electric blankets. It was amazing how many blankets he had shorted out in the last seventeen years by attempting to enchant them to work on magic and not electricity. Not to mention the fits his students would have if they knew about evil Professor Snape's sleepwear, he thought with a wry grin.  
  
Drunkenly searching for the silly, but fuzzily welcoming pair with animated, pacing red lions on them - a gag gift from Minerva - he dug through the bottom of the cupboard and pulled out a gown of crimson silk instead.  
  
"Apparently, I'm not supposed to sleep tonight, am I?" he slurred. "Leave me alone, Hermione. I can't fix this and I can't seem to bring you back. Quit haunting me. You'd be disappointed in me anyway - and -- Go AWAY!"  
  
The silk gown went sailing through the air and landed square on Snape's four-poster bed. Figures, he groused. It figures. Images of the first time she'd worn the gown, at the Halloween ball of their seventh year came unbidden to his mind. Images of how she looked when he had taken that gown off a month later in Binns'classroom after curfew followed soon after. He shook his head to clear it, grabbed a pair of flannel pajamas with flying snitches on them - another gag gift, this time from Albus.  
  
Shucking his stiff formal clothing and shrugging into the nightwear, he headed to the bed. The thought occurred to him to throw the silk of her gown to the floor, to deal with in the morning. Instead, he allowed the whiskey to take over and instead drew the cool silk to his cheek. He thought he could almost still smell her perfume.  
  
  
  
Tbc  
  
Wow, thanks for the reviews. I have been chewing on this for months now and finally decided to give fiction a whirl, but I didn't expect any positive reviews or suggestions. Thanks so much! 


	3. A moment

"Severus? Where are you taking me?" whispered Hermione as they scurried down a dark corridor in his invisibility cloak. "I am not in the mood to get expelled in just my third month here."  
  
Severus opened the door to Professor Binns' classroom and ushered Hermione in. Binns was one of the few teachers that did not ward nor patrol his professorial territory at night, so there was little chance of being caught. It wasn't the most romantic of settings, Severus thought, but it would have to do.  
  
Grinning at Hermione, he set about conjuring a few candles to float above their heads. A wood burning stove in the corner became a roaring fireplace and Binns' desk became a large, comfortable sofa. Severus then set privacy and locking charms and turned to gaze at Hermione expectantly.  
  
Hermione's eyes grew wide as she realized what Severus had in mind. A serious snogging session at minimum - but truthfully the young man had hopes for more. They had been seeing each other officially for more than a month now, and had been friends since nearly the beginning of the school year. But, tonight, he wanted to take their relationship from one of stolen kisses outside her common room or in the library to one that was suited for the adult feelings they had for one another. The feelings scared them both, he thought, but it was time. He walked back over to her and placing his hands on her shoulders, he slid the silk of her Gryffindor-colored dress robes off her body.  
  
"I think I fell in love with you the first time I saw you wear these, Hermione," he said. Hermione's eyes once again flew wide in shock. "Until the Halloween ball, I admit I thought you were a little annoying - always following me around." She laughed nervously. "But that night, I realized what I would be missing if I didn't have you in my life."  
  
The voice that Hermione had found so sexy, even as a scared eleven-year-old student, dropped to a dangerously seductive level. Severus continued: "I know we have to wait until we finish out NEWTS and we are out of school to marry, but I want to start our life together tonight. Make love with me, Hermione."  
  
Speech complete, Severus anxiously awaited her response. In typical Hermione fashion, her reaction was nothing like he had expected.  
  
She laughed.  
  
"What? What is so funny?" Severus fumed, at once turning into the short- tempered, "greasy git" that most of the school alternately loathed and loved to goad into a fury. "I tell you how I feel and you LAUGH?"  
  
"How long did you practice that?" she coughed out between laughs. "Please tell me the entire Slytherin common room didn't -"  
  
Severus had heard enough. Lowering his hands to her waist, he drew her to him and effectively cut her off with a gentle nudge of his nose against her own. Neither spoke, and he did not force a kiss from her, but he hoped being this close would elicit some reaction besides another laugh. He was close enough he could feel the shallowness of her breathing on his face and sense the rapid increase in her heartbeat as he stoked the silk of her gown with his thumbs. He stopped himself from kissing her, though; that had to be her decision. He assumed she was a virgin and thus he wanted her to be the one to make the next move - he wouldn't force the issue if she weren't ready. But, Gods, he hoped with all the hormones coursing through his eighteen-year-old body that she was.  
  
Biting her lip and glancing sideways up at Severus, Hermione considered her options. He had been her professor for almost seven years, but then again in this time he was not the man she had known. Initially, she knew she had clung to him as a tie to her past, or her future, whatever. Now - what exactly was he? Was Professor Snape actually her boyfriend? Was this supposed to happen? She suddenly wished she'd done some snooping into the history of Severus Snape while she was in school. Surely there was at least one yearbook with information in it somewhere. She brought her thoughts back to the present, with a shake of her head. Looking Severus in the eyes, she mulled over her presence in his life and it's effect on the future. Was this wrong? Would this damage the timeline or change things? Could it make things better for her lonely professor in the 1990s?  
  
Severus gently caressed her hip, sending a shock through Hermione's nerve endings and abruptly ending her musings. And with all the logic of an aroused teenager, she decided that she didn't care about the future. She was here, it was 1979 and she could give a fig about the consequences. She didn't ask to wind up here, after all, and still wasn't sure how it had happened. And besides, if Severus turned out to be as good a lover as he was a kisser, well, then whomever or whatever was responsible for her landing in the past was going to get a huge thanks from her someday.  
  
But did he say "marriage?" Somewhere in his little rehearsed speech, he did, she thought. Professor Snape isn't married in the future, so apparently it doesn't work out. Or maybe I die, she contemplated, that would explain a lot about his attitude problems - Or maybe I need to quit thinking and just kiss him. The theories and quandaries behind time travel makes my head hurt, anyway, she decided.  
  
And she kissed him.  
  
Somehow, neither were quite sure how, they had moved from the safe place Hermione had retreated to by the door, and wound up cozily entwined on the oversized couch. Severus had kissed Hermione many, many times in the past weeks, but she never reacted like this, he realized. There was always the feeling that something was holding her back. Or that she wasn't truly kissing him, when she kissed him. It was difficult to put his finger on the problem, but it was always there. Suddenly he no longer cared who she was thinking of when they had kissed in the past -- because Hermione had just parted her lips and slipped her tongue into his mouth in the present. He gasped slightly and deepened the kiss. Feeling slightly dazed, he cautiously slid his hand from the neutral territory of her collarbone to her breast. She arched into his hand with a gasp of her own.  
  
"Severus, wait -" breathed Hermione. "I want this, I want you - don't misunderstand me. But, I'm a -- I'm a virgin and I have never tried a contraceptive charm and I've never had reason to learn to brew a potion -"  
  
"Which is why you are dating a potions genius, my dear," said Severus, feeling very smug about his planning. "You are in luck. I had a house elf put a potion on your nightstand for you. You just have to take it within 24 hours and everything will be fine."  
  
Hermione silently thought for a moment, then smiled.  
  
"Severus, are you a--?"  
  
"Of course I am, love. I was waiting for you," said Severus trying out his sexy silky voice on her again.  
  
Black eyes looked into brown and held for a moment before both burst into laughter.  
  
"Okay, okay, I practiced too many bad Muggle movie lines in my mirror this afternoon. I just didn't want to mess this up, Hermione. I do love you."  
  
"And I love you. Kiss me, please, Severus. And as much as I adore the sound of your voice, please just -- don't talk, okay?"  
  
"Hermione, I only want everything to be perf-"  
  
Severus choked on the words as he felt her hand grasp the back of his head as she lowered her own lips wordlessly onto his slender neck. She captured his lips with her own and began a languid exploration of his mouth while her other hand began to fumble inexpertly with the fastenings of his school robes. In turn, Severus slowly trailed a long, damp kiss in a straight line down until he was at the crest of her cleavage, between her small, firm breasts, then back up to the left hollow of her throat, beneath her earlobe.  
  
Sliding his hands around to brace her, he awkwardly rolled them until she was on the sofa beneath him; her head, shoulders and mass of curly hair supported by the dozens of velvety pillows. A gentle exploration of each other through remaining clothing began slowly and ended an incalculable time later at a rather frenzied pace. A few heated kisses and a pair of murmured charms later, their clothes were gone - neatly folded on a desk in the front row of the classroom.  
  
The first moment of skin-on-skin contact took both of their breaths away. Severus whispered yet another handy charm he had looked up that week - it was jokingly called the "Quidditch charm" as it had the same effect on a male as thinking about the sport and it's statistics -- without the loss of concentration. Shuddering and getting himself under control, he opened his eyes to find Hermione looking at him with a decided air of mischief. He wasn't sure exactly what she was up to, but then surprise hit him like ice water when he felt her fingers curl around his erection. Although, some blurry thought in the back of his mind told him that cold wasn't precisely what he was feeling, as she proceeded to tentatively stroke, whisking her thumb lazily over the tip.  
  
Dazed, he pulled Hermione into a deep and searching kiss, while his hand began a bit of exploration on it's own. He was gratified to hear Hermione's shocked gasp and see a dazed expression on her face that matched his own. He chuckled and grinned at her, noticing her firm grip loosened as he trailed a finger through her warm, wet softness and that she let go of him completely as he slid that finger inside of her.  
  
"Okay, you win," she gasped out.  
  
Without any further words, he shifted to position himself between her parted legs. With a final look of confirmation and a firm kiss, Hermione and Severus became one. She loved the way he felt covering her, pinning her to the couch and pillows with each thrust, and he wondered how he would ever manage to live without this every night for the rest of his life. Faintly, Hermione wondered she would climax her first time -- like the heroines improbably and invariably did in all the silly romance novels she had ever read. She hadn't realized she'd spoken the thought out loud until Severus paused and laughed.  
  
"Once again, you are in luck. Your studious nerd of a boyfriend just happens to have found a few - interesting charms that might fit the bill," said Severus, smiling down at Hermione, who blushed as her lover murmured a charm into her ear.  
  
Within minutes they were both nearing completion, her body welcoming his again and again as her fingers laced with his on the pillows above her head, their grip tightening with his every thrust. Soon they were both panting for air and riding waves of pleasure that felt like - well, magic, Severus thought.  
  
Still entwined, their breathing softened and their heartbeats slowed. Severus lifted his head from where he had buried it in her neck and, brushing her hair out of his eyes, kissed her. Deeply and unhurriedly, he once again explored her mouth, sliding his hands from above her head to gently caress her breasts. Pulling away and positioning himself on the sofa next to her, he drew her close and sighed.  
  
He wasn't ever going to let her go.  
  
  
  
tbc 


	4. One evening

The Christmas holidays had finally arrived at Hogwarts. As usual, Dumbledore had managed to over decorate and overdo the Christmas cheer. Lighted fairies hovered in festive greenery that flowed up staircases, around arches and circled the center courtyard. Four giant Christmas trees filled the corners of the Great Hall, covered with small enchanted St. Nicholas ornaments that serenaded the students with soft Christmas carols during meals.  
  
Dinner was a quiet and lazy affair that night for Harry and Ron. Most of their holiday homework was complete already. They didn't have to keep up with cheery conversations at the Gryffindor table as many students were in the dormitory, hurriedly packing for the morning train ride back to London. They sat, slowly pushing mashed potatoes and slivers of pork loin around their plates, occasionally taking a bite. When dessert appeared, Ron became a bit more interested, helping himself to seconds - carrot cake was always a weak point for him no matter how depressed he was. Harry, however, pushed back his plate and leaned on the table while he watched the activities around the Hall with a disinterested spirit.  
  
The faculty appeared to have broken open a very large and dusty bottle of Professor Dumbledore's brandy and most of them were lingering at the Head table over dessert and their drinks. Professor McGonagall and Dumbledore appeared to be in an animated conversation about something humorous, and Professors Flitwick and Sprout were scurrying up a small ladder to adjust the ornaments at the top of one of the giant Christmas trees under the watchful eye of Hagrid. A small group of professors were beginning to giggle as they played a rather quiet game of Exploding Snap - they must be using a silencing spell, Harry mused. His eyes then drifted to the only professor sitting alone.  
  
Snape.  
  
Well, that figures, Harry thought, I don't suppose he's ever been filled with the Christmas spirit. Harry quietly examined his potions professor as Ron began to put away a third slice of carrot cake -- after he pilfered the frosting from Harry's uneaten piece.  
  
Snape sat quietly at his corner of the Head Table, ignoring the happy conversations around him. Swirling his share of the Headmaster's brandy in his glass and staring at it intently. Occasionally, a small pop would resound from the Exploding Snap game and he would raise just his eyes to rest on the merry players. Finally, Snape seemed to be making a decision. He finished his drink, pushed aside his dinnerware and looked up -- right at Harry.  
  
And Harry, for the first time in memory, did not flinch under his intense gaze.  
  
Snape broke eye contact with Harry and slid his gaze first to Ron - complete with a sneer as he watched the oblivious young man tear through his dessert - and then to the empty place across the table from them. Harry could have sworn that he saw a flicker of sadness cross his face. Hermione was a genius in potions and arithmancy, Harry reasoned, perhaps Snape was disheartened to lose such a good student and protégé. The black eyes flicked back to Harry, and Snape slowly nodded with understanding for the young man and his latest loss. Harry quirked a small, lopsided grin to the surly professor, just as all Hell broke loose in the Hall.  
  
A pop, barely louder than the muffled ones coming from the Head Table, drew the attention of professor and student to the entry doors of the Great Hall. Green and black eyes widened in shock as they saw the panting figure leaning against the doors.  
  
"Hermione!" called Harry and Snape, in unison.  
  
Both men abruptly rose to their feet. Snape's chair met the ground with a noisy clatter and pumpkin juice flew as Harry raced to her, quickly followed by Ron. Dumbledore and McGonagall hurried down from the Head Table and students and professors alike let out a cheer, as Flitwick and Sprout tumbled into the Christmas tree they were tinkering with - sending it to the ground with a tinkling crash. In the pandemonium, no one noticed the potions master's chest hitching with repressed emotion as drank in the vision that was Hermione. Disheveled, panting, dusty Hermione - who was slightly bent over from exhaustion and looking rather frantic. But to those who had missed her all these months, she was a true vision. Snape's view was abruptly cut off as Hermione was mobbed by students from all four houses and professors and was gathered into a big bear hug by Ron and Harry. Then everyone began to talk at once --  
  
"Hermione, you're home."  
  
"Where have you been?"  
  
"Are you okay?"  
  
"Hermione! Gods we missed you!"  
  
"Miss Granger, so good to have you back!"  
  
"Hermione, say something?"  
  
"Miss Granger --?"  
  
Hermione lifted her head to look frantically around the Great Hall, gaze landing on Headmaster Dumbledore. A jolt of realization hit him as their eyes met.  
  
"Poppy! Poppy! Please take Ms -- Please take Hermione to the Hospital Wing. I believe the journey home has been too much for her," Dumbledore said, as he briskly conjured a stretcher and lifted the quickly panicking Hermione onto it.  
  
"It will be all right, my dear," he whispered to Hermione. He kissed her forehead. "Poppy has been prepared for this for a good many years. I leave you in good hands."  
  
And with a swish of Pomfrey's wand, the doors to the Great Hall opened, taking Hermione from them as swiftly as she had returned. Harry and Ron began to follow the stretcher and were surprised to find themselves restrained by a gentle hand on each shoulder.  
  
"Tonight, I believe that Hermione needs company other than our own," the wizard said. Harry and Ron began to protest. Dumbledore simply lifted a hand to stop them. "No."  
  
Dumbledore slowly walked to the stage that was home to the Head Table and mounted the steps. Slowly, contemplatively, he turned to the Hall and all of its current residents who were intently focused on him.  
  
"I suppose that it is time for me to tell you what has happened to our lovely Hermione," he said, glancing sharply at the potions master who still stood as though petrified. "Yes, I suppose that it is finally time."  
  
  
  
tbc  
  
  
  
Again, thanks to the reviewers who have given me some excellent points to ponder. As I told one, I'm not sure why I thought a convoluted time travel piece was the best place to start as I attempted fiction, but I did. I've had a historical romance plot brewing in my head for some time, and I thought a nice fanfic would be good practice.  
  
Oh, and I know I left off the disclaimer. It means nothing legally, and is pointless. And besides, JK Rowling could care less that I took her toys out to play for a few days. Luckily, she sees fanfic as a form of flattery, so hats off to JK! 


	5. Time?

"Headmaster."  
  
One word. It wasn't a question. It wasn't a statement. It wasn't even a plea.  
  
It was an accusation.  
  
All eyes turned to gaze at the potion master, who appeared to have regained his equilibrium and was quickly becoming furious. White-knuckled furious. Harry didn't know what was happening between the Headmaster and Snape, but the electricity crackling between the two of them on the Head Table's platform was nearly visible.  
  
"Severus," the older wizard calmly replied.  
  
"You knew."  
  
Harry and Ron exchanged confused glances. Dumbledore opened his mouth to explain, but was cut off by the potions master.  
  
"No, Albus. No excuses or sugary stories today. You knew she was coming back to Hogwarts," snapped Snape. "And you didn't tell any of us. We've been frantic for years - months. Mr. Potter. Mr. Weasley. Minerva. Me."  
  
"I hoped she would return to our time, yes. And the silence was necessary, as I was not entirely convinced of the certainty Hermione would ever return. But, I did have an inkling that she would return to us sometime this year, Severus," admitted Dumbledore, softly and with a hint of sadness. "Severus. The ethics of time tr-"  
  
Snape had spent the last few moments stalking to Dumbledore's position at the front of the platform. He moved within inches of his prey's face and spat:  
  
"Ethics? Ethics! How can you -"  
  
"Severus, please." Dumbledore placed a comforting hand on the fuming man's shoulder, only to have it swatted away with enough force to nearly cause the old wizard to stumble.  
  
"Bastard."  
  
Snape didn't hear the collective gasp from those who remained in the Hall. He turned and stormed from the room, pausing only to nod briefly at Harry and Ron. He passed through the Hall's double doors and with a flourish of his wand, slammed them.  
  
And in the silence that followed, all eyes turned to Dumbledore.  
  
***  
  
WHAM!  
  
The door to the Headmaster's office slammed shut, causing Fawkes to startle and take flight and several flasks of odd and old potions to crash from the shelves to the floor. The potions hissed softly - the only sound in the room besides a man's heavy breathing.  
  
"Ah, Severus, I wondered when you would visit me this evening," said Dumbledore with a soft smile. "I had guessed that tonight's Sorting would be a difficult one for you. I would offer you a lemon drop, but I believe you may need something stronger. Brandy? Whiskey?"  
  
"No."  
  
The two men stared at each other in silence. Dumbledore settled himself comfortably behind his desk and waited for Snape to speak.  
  
"Severus?"  
  
"You. Knew."  
  
Dumbledore looked over the rim of his glasses at the man in front of him: a man with a violent past who was obviously trying very hard to keep his temper in check.  
  
"Yes, Severus. I knew. I, after all, sent her the Hogwarts letter. I knew she would be starting school here this fall," Dumbledore said, his admission earning him a glare. "I am sorry, Severus. There are certain ethics and questions involved with the manipulation of time. She and I studied her mysterious travels at length and could never quite fathom how she was sent back in time. Nor do I know where she went when she disappeared again so many years ago. Someday, perhaps Hermione herself will be able to answer that question."  
  
Dumbledore sighed, conjured a glass of whiskey and pressed it into Snape's hand. Snape tossed it back and handed the Headmaster the glass without a word - and fighting the desire to hex the old wizard into a different time or dimension.  
  
"You are supposed to meet her again, Severus. You are supposed to teach her and her friends. Hermione will be here for the next few years. In her seventh year, she will disappear. And you will carry on as if you know nothing. If you don't, who knows what that could do to the time line," said Dumbledore. "So you see, my boy, I could not tell you and risk you leaving Hogwarts this year. Again, for that, I am sorry."  
  
Snape suddenly appeared unable to maintain his anger and slumped into one of the chairs before the fireplace. He turned his head away from the Headmaster's gaze and stared into the flames.  
  
"She's eleven-years-old, Albus," he bitterly choked out.  
  
"Yes."  
  
"And I am supposed to teach her."  
  
"Yes."  
  
"Teach my - wife."  
  
"Yes."  
  
"For the next six years. Just waiting for the other shoe to drop. For her to vanish. For this whole crazy circle to somehow complete itself."  
  
"Yes."  
  
"And I'm supposed to act as if nothing is amiss."  
  
"Yes."  
  
Silence ruled the room as Snape's lingering anger and resentment turned to frustration and then to hopelessness.  
  
"How, Albus?" he whispered. "How can I do this?"  
  
The old wizard pulled a photo of a smiling Hermione and Severus sitting on the steps of Hogwarts from his desk and handed it to the younger man. Snape took the photo with shaking hands.  
  
"Because you love her, Severus," replied Dumbledore. "You can do it because you love her."  
  
Minutes passed as Snape and Dumbledore looked silently at the photo. Standing, Snape straightened his robes.  
  
"I need to get back to the dungeons. Excuse me, Headmaster."  
  
With a soft snap, the door to the Headmaster's office closed, leaving a very worried wizard standing quietly, contemplating and sucking on a lemon drop.  
  
***  
  
Dumbledore walked softly across the platform and to the chair Snape had overturned, setting it to rights. He sighed and gazed over his glasses at the stunned group of people alternately staring at him and at the doors through which the potions master had stormed.  
  
"When Hermione vanished three months ago, many of us on staff knew what happened to her, however, we were unable to share the information with you," began Dumbledore, ignoring the sounds of protest coming from Harry and Ron. "Hermione was transported somehow - we do not yet know how - into the past. More precisely, Hogwarts of 1979. And yes, before you ask, she did know many of your parents and I'm sure she will love to share stories with you once she recovers and has time to adjust."  
  
"Hermione spent nearly three years with us in the past," Dumbledore continued. "She completed her seventh year with spectacular NEWTS. She fell in love with one of her classmates and married him the fall after they left school."  
  
A murmur rose through the ranks as they began to assimilate the information that Hermione was not only back, but she was suddenly an adult and married. Harry blinked; trying to comprehend what was three months to them was really nearly three years to Hermione. It didn't register. He vaguely wondered if it ever would.  
  
"Hermione is married?" Ron asked, a blank look on his face. "She married one of her classmates? Um, Professor -- She's not one of our long-lost moms or anything, is she?"  
  
Dumbledore smiled. Then he twinkled. Then he gave in and laughed.  
  
"No, Mr. Weasley, you can rest easily knowing you did not spend part of your sixth year kissing your long-lost mother in the common room," he said. "It truly should be their story to tell, however, to keep the rumor mill from completely going into overdrive, I will tell you one of Hermione's secrets from the past. The other, I'm afraid, is hers alone to tell."  
  
"Hermione is married to Professor Snape."  
  
With that declaration, a thud echoed through the Great Hall as Ronald Weasley passed out and crashed to the floor.  
  
  
  
  
  
***  
  
  
  
Click.  
  
The door to the infirmary closed rather louder than Snape had planned. He had spent the past twenty minutes pacing the corridors of Hogwarts and had somehow found himself outside the Hospital Wing. This is crazy, he chided himself. The woman I've missed for seventeen years is in there and I'm standing out here like a prat. He went inside and looked around cautiously.  
  
"Who is there?" called Madam Pomfrey. "Headmaster?"  
  
"No, Poppy. It's me," said Snape. "May I please see her?"  
  
Pomfrey didn't answer and simply held out her hand to the distraught professor. He took it and she led him to the last row of metal beds. Hermione. She was pale and asleep. He looked questioningly at her.  
  
"Is she all right, Poppy?" he said, softly so as to not wake his slumbering wife.  
  
"She'll be fine, Severus," she said. "The trip back was a bit difficult. I told her years ago not to risk any traveling with a time turner, but she apparently wouldn't listen."  
  
"What? A time turner? Poppy, what are you talking about? She had a time turner?"  
  
"She had charmed a time turner so that she could briefly visit the future - now - and check on you, Severus. She planned to slip in, and slip back out unnoticed. Apparently, she wasn't meant to return to the past as she has been discovered. And I can't risk sending her back. I do, however, believe she meant to return home that night, Severus. I'm sorry I could not tell you before. We couldn't risk you attempting to - well, it was just too risky."  
  
Snape nodded and looked at Hermione for several minutes. Then he took her hand.  
  
"Poppy, if we send her back to the moment she left -" he began hopefully.  
  
"We can't do that and you know it. Besides altering the time line, there's her health to consider. Gods, Severus, I don't know what is the right thing to do. There's a reason I don't use a time turner regularly." The mediwitch smiled grimly. "But we cannot send her back. There's a valid reason for that, but that is Hermione's story to tell you."  
  
"She wanted to check on my future self? Why would she have to?" he said, a bit bitterly. "She knew how the future would turn out. Even though she neglected to fill me in on that bit of information."  
  
Hermione shifted in her sleep. Pomfrey ran her wand briskly over Hermione and nodded in satisfaction. She smiled at Snape and handed him a vial of potion.  
  
"Drink it, it will help you relax. Hermione had hoped that her trip to the past had changed your future. That she would find you all happy and a family and you wouldn't have become -" Pomfrey stopped, not sure how to best word the offensive phrase.  
  
"She hoped that I hadn't become a Death Eater," Snape said bluntly, sitting down the empty potions vial.  
  
"Yes."  
  
"I see," said Snape. "Well, then she will be disappointed."  
  
  
  
  
  
tbc 


	6. Early morning

Pain.  
  
What the hell is the matter with my head? Ugh. I feel like I have a Hippogriff sitting on my sinuses.  
  
Maybe I should open my eyes and see if there is someone here that can give me a potion or an aspirin or anything. Okay, here we go. Opening my eyes.  
  
Nausea.  
  
Damn. Gods, it must be morning for the sun to be that blasted bright. The opening the eyes thing was just not a good idea. I am never opening my eyes again. What the hell did I drink? Did I drink last night? I remember setting the table and going upstairs to change for dinner. What the hell did I do to my head? I'll just crack my eye and see if --- The Hospital Wing? How did I get here? And why does Severus look like he's been run over by a Norwegian Ridgeback?  
  
Snape tore his gaze from the window and looked back at the still figure in the bed. Their eyes locked for a moment before Hermione gestured frantically for the basin on her nightstand. Severus handed it to her quickly and, sitting on the edge of the bed, held back her tangled hair as she vomited and unwittingly began to cry.  
  
"Shhhhh! Angel, it's all right," whispered Snape. "I'm here. I'll take care of you, I promise. It's going to be fine."  
  
The noise brought the mediwitch scurrying from her quarters. Snape heard her coming and called:  
  
"Poppy? Poppy! She's awake!"  
  
Pomfrey raced to Hermione's side, wand out and ready. She swiftly ran her wand over Hermione and a look of concern took over her normally pleasant features.  
  
"Severus, could you excuse us please."  
  
Severus looked like he was about to protest, but instead stood up and swept over to pace in front of the fireplace. The nurse pulled the curtains around Hermione's bed and softly spoke to her, as she handed her a glass of water and a potion to quell the nausea.  
  
"Hermione. Something went wrong. You are in the future. It's been seventeen years since you left us," the nurse softly told her. She paused for a moment to let it all sink in. Hermione turned frightened eyes to her and grabbed her hand.  
  
"Seventeen years? I only meant to pop into my seventh year and then pop back out!" she said, crying softly once again. "I just wanted to make sure everything was fine, to check on the people I loved. Poppy? Why didn't it work?"  
  
"I told you it might not, if you remember, Hermione," Pomfrey said, handing her another vial of potion to drink. Hermione drank it without so much as a questioning glance. "When you left the Hospital Wing that day I told you it would be risky. You weren't in the right frame of mind, for one. And two, time traveling short jumps isn't good for someone in perfect health - and here you are attempting seventeen years and you -"  
  
Hermione sat up in bed abruptly, ignoring the waves of nausea and pain that hit her. She interrupted Pomfrey with a dangerous hiss that would make her husband proud.  
  
"You did NOT tell him, did you Poppy?" she said. "Did Dumbledore?"  
  
"No, child. We kept your secret. We promised we would. And he has been beside himself with panic and worry for the last seventeen years, throw in a time jump that was risky to your health and I think the man would have gone insane. He was damned cranky enough as it was. You owe him a big explanation, Hermione," the nurse said.  
  
"I know. And he will get one."  
  
Pomfrey fussed over a suddenly sullen Hermione for a few more minutes. Tutting under her breath, she summoned a house elf with a large breakfast for two. She called Snape back to Hermione's side and spoke to him in hushed tones.  
  
"What is wrong with her, Poppy?" he asked, nervously pulling at the buttons on his waistcoat. "Why is she reacting so badly to her time jump?"  
  
"Severus, I can't tell you. I promised Hermione and it is, truly, her story to tell," Pomfrey said, smiling. She laid a comforting hand on his arm. Snape stared at her blankly.  
  
"She's ill, isn't she?" he said. "I've waited all these years to get her back, only to watch her suffer or die."  
  
The nurse didn't know whether to laugh at his Gryffindor-like stab at the melodramatic, or to bring out her inner Hufflepuff and take the man into a giant bear hug. She settled for Slytherin sarcasm.  
  
"Always the optimist, aren't we, Snape?" quipped Pomfrey.  
  
Snape just glared, but the glare was tempered with an edge of fear. She didn't contradict his statement about Hermione dying. She didn't reassure him. He felt bile and panic both rising in his throat as he turned to face the now lecturing woman.  
  
"Do NOT excite her. Do NOT upset her," began the nurse. "I know she has much to tell you and you have a right to know - but it can wait. I know you are probably dying to touch her, but you will just have to keep your hands to yourself today."  
  
At that comment, Pomfrey was awarded a sharp glance. Used to his surly attitude, she shrugged it off, placing a hand on the tall man's chest. "Just comfort her and be with her right now."  
  
Snape didn't answer nor did he flinch from the contact, he just stood looking past Pomfrey at the curtains that hid his wife.  
  
"Severus Snape, are you listening to me? As much as you want her, it has to wait. And there will be no Spanish Inquisition today. You will have time to get your answers later," she finished.  
  
"I hear you, Poppy."  
  
"And?"  
  
"I'll attempt to restrain myself, in both matters," he snapped. "Now, may I please see my wife? I think I have been very patient for the last seventeen years and I would like to think I don't have to wait any longer."  
  
Pomfrey gestured to the curtains and Snape stepped around them to find an elaborate breakfast for two - and a sleeping Hermione.  
  
"Damn," he swore. "It figures." 


	7. Noon

When Hermione opened her eyes several hours later, she felt much better. She thought back on the last twenty-four hours she had experienced, and began to wonder about the past seventeen years of her mate. Hell, all I wanted to do was to see how he was doing, see what he had become, she thought. I wanted to then come home, sit down to dinner and tell him all about my past, how we had changed the future together. Who knew I'd wind up back where I started for good? she mused, looking at her much-older husband. I'd forgotten how well he had aged, whispered a stray and naughty thought, as she swept her eyes over his tall, lean body. Damn, what was I thinking when I left?  
  
"Severus?" she called to the man daydreaming out the window. Snape turned to her, a smile instantly taking possession of his face. The reached for each other as he stepped from the window to her side and he collapsed in relief on the edge of her bed; taking her into his arms. Gently, he pressed her to his chest and buried his lips in her hair.  
  
"Hermione."  
  
They sat quietly in each others arms for nearly a quarter of an hour. So wrapped up in each other, they didn't notice Madam Pomfrey leaving the Hospital Wing or hear her murmuring a charm to lock and ward it for them. Snape was mildly shaking, Hermione noticed. She pulled him back with her to lie on the bed. His weight on top of her was comforting and slightly arousing, as always, and he seemed to relax as their legs entwined easily out of habit. He began to lightly stroke her hair and once again buried his face in it, breathing deeply.  
  
Softly, Hermione kissed his throat and secretly enjoyed his sharp intake of air in response. It's been seventeen years for him, she thought with shock, this will almost be like our first kiss to him. She smiled to herself and decided at that moment to allow him to guide their reunion. She nuzzled into his neck and chest, enjoying his scent and warmth. Even though she had only been away from her husband for less than a day, it was still a relief to hold him. And, unbidden, a small voice in the back of her mind whispered that *this* Snape, her dear old Professor Snape, was more her soul mate than the one she had left behind in the past. She blinked to clear her head of that odd thought and replaced it with the mantra - It doesn't matter, he will always be my husband.  
  
Snape was lost in a whirlwind of emotions and memories. When Hermione began kissing his neck he was secretly grateful that Poppy had warned him against allowing her to overdo it. It was all he could do to keep himself from ripping off her hospital nightgown and his clothing and making love to her right there in the Hospital Wing - and to Hell with who might walk in on them. They were married after all. Except, Snape had been alone so long and had gone so many years without his wife or the comfort of another woman, that he felt a bit like a nervous teenager trying to steal his first kiss.  
  
***  
  
"And then I will say, I now pronounce you husband and wife," said Dumbledore, with a twinkling grin. "Unless you would prefer 'witch and wizard?'"  
  
Hermione and Severus laughed. Thank the Gods that Dumbledore was making jokes, Severus thought. If I had to endure one more lecture about the seriousness of marriage and commitment from him, my parents or anyone else today, I think I would call the whole thing off and head to Las Vegas or Gretna Green. No, wait, Gretna Green is entirely too close to Hogwarts. Vegas it is, then. He snorted and answered the older wizard with a grin.  
  
"We've been witches and wizards all our lives, Headmaster. Tomorrow will be our first day of being husband and wife. I think I'd prefer you called us that," he said, turning to his fiancée. "Hermione?"  
  
"I agree. I can't wait until I can call myself your wife, Severus," Hermione said, brushing away a little tear and laughing. "Look at me! It's just a rehearsal and I'm already crying!"  
  
Severus bent to her and brushed a slight kiss across her lips, causing Dumbledore and their guests to grin.  
  
"Severus," the Headmaster said sternly. "If you attempt to kiss her tomorrow before I tell you that you may 'kiss the bride,' I just may not let you kiss her at all!"  
  
The groom blushed and mumbled in agreement.  
  
"Now, in all seriousness, you two. Tomorrow, you will say your vows just like you did tonight. You will be pronounced husband and wife and I will tell you, Severus, to kiss your bride. Do not, let me repeat -- do not simply attack each other like a pair of fumbling third-years. Also, bear in mind that there are many candles involved in this wedding ceremony and if you get too hot and steamy, you will find yourselves covered in wax and standing in the dark," said Dumbledore.  
  
The guests and bridal couple laughed. Dumbledore, however, wasn't finished.  
  
"Instead, when I say 'man and wife,' I want you to take a moment to really look at the person you have chosen to become your life partner," Dumbledore said as his eyes became serious. "I want you to look at each other and then kiss with all the amazement, gratitude, love and passion that are a true marriage. Make it a kiss that you will remember for all eternity, not for its fervor, but for its depth and emotion. Severus, take her breath away. Hermione, make him glad that you said yes. Remember, it is the first kiss of your new life together. Make it one you will never forget."  
  
Hermione and Severus just looked at each other, eyes glowing softly.  
  
"I think we can do that, sir," said Severus.  
  
***  
  
  
  
Snape sat up slightly in Hermione's arms and looked at her silently. He studied the face he had dreamed of for so long and carefully traced her features. When he reached her lips, she gently kissed his fingertips and looked up at him expectantly. Recalling Dumbledore's words of long ago, he lowered his mouth to hers. He kissed her - telling her in one gentle yet passionate kiss exactly how much he had missed her, how much he still wanted her, how he would never stop loving her and exactly how hard the years had been without her.  
  
The kiss left them both breathless.  
  
Hermione opened her eyes to look at Snape and realized the stoic and surly potions master had tears streaming down his face. She had never seen her husband tear up, much less cry - and seeing the older version crying, the one she knew as "bastard Snape," was even more disconcerting.  
  
"Severus? Severus, please don't cry, I'm home now," she pleaded, completely at a loss for how to comfort him. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to do this to you. Please, don't be angry with me. Please stop crying."  
  
Hermione drew him to lie with his head pillowed on her chest and let him cry himself out. The downpour of tears only lasted a few minutes, then he calmed and nuzzled into her. She began to smooth his hair with one hand and he grasped the other and held on as if she could again vanish.  
  
"Why, Hermione?" he whispered. "Why did you have to leave? Even for a few minutes - Time travel is just so tricky that a brief visit just isn't worth attempting. I know you are an expert with a time-turner after your third year, love, but a multi-year jump for just a few minutes worth of spying - "  
  
"I know, Severus," she sighed. "I wasn't thinking clearly. I just wanted to see you. See if we were still married. And -"  
  
"And you needed to know if I had become a Death Eater."  
  
"Yes."  
  
"Hermione," he began, not knowing exactly how to say it. "If you hadn't left, I would never have joined Voldemort. I just didn't think I had anything else to live for."  
  
She was silent and tears of regret ran down her cheeks. She was the cause of his flight to the Dark. If she had stayed home last night, everything might have turned out differently.  
  
"I know that now."  
  
"Why, Hermione?" he asked again, raising his head to look at her. "You were my student for six years, you were one of the few students who knew my past and about my being a spy. You knew I was a Death Eater before you went back to our past. What made confirmation so important that you would risk the timeline by coming here - especially when you were under medical orders from Poppy not to?"  
  
Hermione squirmed under his intense gaze and hesitated.  
  
"Hermione? I waited for you for seventeen years. I think I have a right to know why I was forced to. Why was confirming that I still became a Death Eater worth the risk? Make me understand."  
  
After a long pause, Hermione took a deep breath and plunged ahead with her explanation.  
  
"Because, Severus, I'd hoped that our marriage and our happiness had changed everything. Because I desperately did not want you to lose yourself - even for a few months or years - to the Dark and to Voldemort. Because I know how horrible and mean you became and I didn't want my laughing and gentle husband to become the bastard that I knew -"  
  
She began to sob. Snape put away the pain she had caused with her words and pulled her to him. Rocking her gently and stoking her hair, he murmured words of apology, reassurance and love. She sniffed and pulled out of his embrace to look him in the eye once again. Slowly, she took his hand and lowered it to her stomach.  
  
"And because I'm pregnant, Severus, and I was terrified that my baby's father might become a Death Eater." 


	8. Six weeks

Pregnant, she's pregnant, thought Snape. I am going to be a father.  
  
Shit, that's scary.  
  
Can I do this? I think I still want to do this. Or don't I?  
  
He looked up from his position by the fire and his dinner, which the house elves had brought up on a tray. Hermione was still asleep. After she told him she was pregnant, the stress and exhaustion of the day had gotten to both of them. Her bitter words had left him speechless and she apparently was too tired to go on herself and quickly fell asleep. He hung on to consciousness a bit longer, caressing her belly and trying to guess how far along she was. Seventeen years and what - six weeks? That could be one big baby. He chuckled softly before following her into slumber.  
  
Now awake, he began to more clearly process the information. So in - what? In June, I'll be a father. If she'll let me, he corrected himself, remembering her deflating proclamation that she did not want a Death Eater as the father of her child.  
  
Dismissing that depressing thought for the moment, he tried to recall when Hermione could have become pregnant. The act that brought about this little surprise was so far in his past, he could barely remember it. Although, he thought it might have happened after the Sorting ceremony, at the beginning of his second year as a teaching apprentice at Hogwarts.  
  
He had bet Hermione over which house his second cousin, half Slytherin and half Gryffindor, would wind up in. After one conversation with Diamant, Hermione had correctly guessed - the latest Snape went to Ravenclaw. And, Snape, the loser - if you could call it that, he reminisced - had to skinny dip in the lake with the giant squid. Hermione stood laughing on the shore as, after midnight, Snape did his penance. Of course, it didn't take long for her to join him in the cool water.  
  
For once, the playful squid left the nude swimmers alone as he had caressed her wet body, kissing her deeply and finally lifting her onto his erection for a gentle and relaxing lovemaking session. Certainly, he remembered, it was the best sex they had had in months. He and Hermione had been trying to have a baby since they had arrived at Hogwarts and had a stable life and income. Maybe it was the pressures of his first year at a real job, or her pressures at Oxford where she was attempting to earn a degree in Transfiguration or maybe they were just putting too much pressure on themselves. The latter was the most likely, he mused. Take two overachievers who can't conceive the first month or so, and you wind up with an emotional, stressed out mess and one hell of a boring, mechanical sex life. Between all the potions and Muggle ovulation predictors and pregnancy tests, their dungeon bathroom had become what he jokingly called "Baby Making Central." Just to himself, of course. If he had attempted to joke about the problem with Hermione, he would have wound up sleeping on the Headmaster's sofa and feeling incredibly guilty for making his beautiful wife cry.  
  
  
  
***  
  
  
  
She had tears in her eyes as she looked up at him.  
  
"Severus?" she said. "You got it? You really got it? We don't have to live with your parents any longer? Really? I won't know what to do if we have real privacy."  
  
Severus just grinned at his bride of nearly one year. He had applied to be their old potions professor's apprentice. Old Professor Figg planned to retire in three years and whoever was lucky enough to land the apprentice job at Hogwarts would be the obvious top choice for the position when she left. Talk about job security, he thought, Hogwarts will be around for hundreds more years. And I'll have time to do research in the summers, too. And the job, he had found out that morning, was his.  
  
"We move in next week, love," he replied. "We have a two-story suite of rooms in the dungeons near the Slytherin dormitory. I'll be assistant Head of House for the Slytherins, too. No rent to deal with, minimal living costs and a very reasonable pay every month. We can stop struggling, finally. And we can start working on that little project we talked about."  
  
Hermione looked up at him expectantly. He grinned as he saw the realization dawn on her. Then laughed as she began crying again.  
  
"If you are this emotional now, I don't even want to think about how bad you'll be when you are pregnant, love," he said, taking her into his arms for a passionate kiss and bear hug. "But, in answer to the question in those big brown eyes of yours, yes, we can start trying for that baby you want so badly."  
  
She squeezed him tightly once more and ran from the bedroom and into their connecting bath. He followed her and walked in just in time to see her dumping two months worth of contraceptive potion down the sink with a triumphant grin.  
  
"So, Daddy," she said, stalking over to him with a seductive smile on her lips and stripping off her clothing on the way. "Shall we get started right now?"  
  
"You don't think we should wait until we get moved into the castle?" he teased her, backing away but also beginning to remove his robes. "I mean, I don't really start the job for another two weeks and all -"  
  
She had caught up with him and backed him up against the bed and with a push; he toppled onto the coverlet and pillows, smiling. Pouncing him, she straddled him and leaned down to draw him into a deep, searching and blindingly passionate kiss.  
  
"Of course, we could always use plenty of practice, couldn't we?" Severus panted, when she released him. "Gods, you're amazing, I just hope we don't get pregnant too quickly."  
  
They both laughed and sank into the mattress.  
  
Making love with a purpose or goal was weird, Severus thought. Maybe not weird, he decided as Hermione heatedly explored his mouth while her hands urgently began to stroke him. Good, definitely good. Maybe it's the fact that becoming a parent terrifies me. Fear can do marvelous things for the libido, he mused, remembering a few interesting "episodes" he and Hermione had shared in school under his invisibility cloak and in very public places. And female hormones are wonderful things, too. Gods, she's attacking me.  
  
And I like it. A lot.  
  
All thoughts fled then as Hermione grasped Severus and guided him inside her. Rocking fiercely on him, her eyes were sparkling and her smile radiant. Their eyes locked for several minutes as she continued to grind out her passions on him. After she reached her breaking point, she paused, leaning down to capture his mouth in a kiss; she bent to his ear and whispered one simple word.  
  
"Daddy."  
  
Breathless, it hit him. They were trying to make a baby. His and Hermione's baby. Theirs. A baby. And suddenly, making love to his wife seemed to be the most amazing and miraculous thing in the world.  
  
"Gods, I love you, Hermione," he nearly sobbed as he climaxed, burying himself even deeper into her. "I love you."  
  
As she collapsed on his chest, he sent up a little prayer to whichever fertility or estrogen god was listening. They may not be pregnant right now, he mused, but if they kept this up it wouldn't take long. And, I think I'm okay with that. He thought about the sleepless nights and diapers and the sweet baby smells and sloppy toddler kisses that his cousins had always spoken of at family dinners. He grinned into Hermione's curls. I can do this. Someday soon, I'm going to be a father.  
  
I can do this.  
  
***  
  
  
  
Can I do this now, mused Snape as he began pacing in front of the fireplace. I was all youthful, stupid confidence all those years ago. I'm set in my ways. I've developed a reputation for being a nasty bastard who hates kids. The dungeons are a mess, I don't think I've been upstairs for years, how am I going to get it ready for a baby? And what if the baby turns out like Longbottom, gods forbid? And how am I going to handle a very young, hormonal and pregnant wife at my age? Or --  
  
What if Hermione leaves you, you greasy bastard git of a Death Eater, said a small nasty voice at the back of his head.  
  
Snape looked at the dozing figure of his pregnant wife on her bed, his mind awhirl with conflicting emotions - the most prevalent being doubt. If he couldn't face his wife with his past, how could he ever explain it to a child? Your father was a murderer and Death Eater - welcome to the world! He shook his head. That baby was only about six weeks along. Innocent and pure. And he or she doesn't need to be raised by a man tainted by evil. Hermione was right.  
  
I can't do this.  
  
Without looking back, Severus Snape left the Hospital Wing and headed for the relative safety and solitude of the dungeons he had once shared with Hermione.  
  
He had some packing to do. 


	9. An afternoon

"Severus?" called Dumbledore from the living room fireplace. "Are you quite finished being furious with me? I believe we need to have a bit of a chat."  
  
Thumping down the stairs of his quarters with two boxes in his arms, Snape glared at the fireplace and then spoke the command that allowed his visitor through. He didn't initiate conversation with the older wizard, however, just set down the boxes and headed back up the stairs once again. Dumbledore stood looking at the cluttered living room - boxes strewn everywhere, packing materials, robes, books, pictures and a few knick- knacks that looked as if they had been wedding presents.  
  
Snape came back downstairs with what looked like a small cedar chest. He walked over to the dining table and carefully sat it down and waved his wand over it to ward it. Turning to face the Headmaster, he sighed.  
  
"Albus," he began, "I must apologize for the scene I made in the Great Hall last night. I had every reason to be angry and every reason to believe you are truly a bastard; but I should never have lost control like that in front of the students."  
  
Dumbledore stood silently.  
  
"Are you going to fire me?" asked Snape, nervously running his hand through his hair. "I understand if you are, I probably deserve it."  
  
Walking over to one of the open boxes and pulling out a crystal vase, Dumbledore held it up to the light coming from the fireplace and watched the light refract and dance on Severus' face.  
  
"Is that why you're packing, my boy? You thought I would fire you? I hate to interrupt your excellent work here, Severus, but you are not fired. I'm not angry with you. It takes an amazing amount to make me angry, Severus, and trust me - you will know it when and if it happens. No, I was simply here to lend my support to you," he said. "It can't be easy to find out after all this time that you are going to be a father. How are you doing?"  
  
Severus walked over to Dumbledore, retrieved the vase and began to wrap it in a very handy Muggle invention called "bubble wrap." It was something Hermione had introduced him to years ago when they first moved to Hogwarts. Carefully, he slid the vase into place in the box and looked around for any other breakables he could put with it.  
  
"Everything is just lovely, Headmaster," snapped Snape. "The love of my life reappears after a seventeen year absence - seventeen years which I was faithful to her and damned lonely, mind you. She reappears and tells me she's pregnant and by the by, doesn't want a Death Eater as the father of her child."  
  
Snape sneered. "And, what a surprise, I'm a Death Eater."  
  
"Former Death Eater, Severus. And let's not forget the years you spent spying for us before Voldemort's last defeat. The information you gained for us was very important to our fight - and the potion you risked your life to invent, brew and administer to him with Mr. Potter was brilliant and inspired. Let's just say that I will be very surprised if he is able to return yet again. You more than redeemed yourself, my dear boy," said the Headmaster, warmly. "And, I believe you have an Order of Merlin to prove it."  
  
"Let me grab that from my desk and trot right up to the Hospital Wing to show it to Hermione, Headmaster," said Snape, trotting out his iciest tone. "I'm sure that will make everything so much better."  
  
Silently, Snape pulled another empty box into the center of the room and began to fill it with folded robes and women's clothing. A stack of ladies underthings followed robes, then a handful of shamelessly lacy and frilly nighties - most in vibrant Slytherin green - and finally a set of crimson and gold dress robes and matching formal gown. Dumbledore looked confused for a moment, then realization hit him.  
  
He picked up one rather racy teddy in silver and green that would appear to leave little to the imagination and quirked an eyebrow at the blushing potions master. Snape briefly lost himself in the memories of the night he had come home from a day of exploding cauldrons and horrible first years to see Hermione perched on the dining table in that teddy. Despite his current distress, Snape glanced over at the dining table and inwardly smiled - it was the best 'dinner' he had ever had, actually. Dumbledore cleared his throat to regain the younger man's attention and then held the teddy up to Snape as if he were assessing its size.  
  
"Either you've taken up cross-dressing on your weekends off, Severus, or you're packing Hermione's old things away," joked the Headmaster. "Which is very odd considering she just arrived."  
  
Snape snatched the garment away from Dumbledore, sneering at him.  
  
"Very funny, Albus. Wouldn't that be lovely? Welcome home, Hermione, I'm a cross-dressing Death Eater - what color shall we paint the nursery?" snorted Snape. "For the record, they are Hermione's things. After she left and it was apparent she would not return soon, I made the first floor study into a small bedroom for myself. A single man does not need a two-story suite designed for a growing family, Headmaster. I left her things upstairs and never thought to dispose of them or pack them away. I am doing so now."  
  
Dumbledore considered the younger man, who was packing away books now with an almost manic energy.  
  
"If Hermione is home, why are you packing her things away?" he asked, afraid of the answer.  
  
"Hermione no longer lives here, she hasn't for seventeen years," snapped Snape. "I've talked to Minerva, and she is arranging a suite of rooms near Gryffindor for her and the baby. I'll have a few house elves take the boxes up for her when she's ready. We thought we'd offer to let her stay here and finish her education at Oxford, if she wants. Besides, with the special circumstances now surrounding the baby, it's best that Poppy deliver her, don't you think?"  
  
"And you don't think she wants to live here, with her husband, in their home?" asked Dumbledore.  
  
"No. She's already told me as much."  
  
"Severus -"  
  
"No, Headmaster, we've discussed it and I'm not going to pursue the matter. She told me that she did not want a Death Eater to be the father of her child. I will honor that and after the child is born, divorce her and give up my rights. I may be the biological father, but I'll not stand in her way of finding another lover, husband and better father for our child. Perhaps Mr. Potter would like an older woman," he joked without mirth. "I'm sure his Gryffindor nobility will inspire him to step in and rescue the pregnant damsel in distress. Luckily, we have the same hair color so perhaps people will believe that their healthy looking newborn is several weeks 'premature.'"  
  
"You have it all figured out, don't you?" asked Dumbledore.  
  
"Well, I've had a lot of time to think."  
  
The two men stood in silence for a moment. Boxes were packed neatly and Snape had stacked them in against one of his many bookshelves to await the house elves. Dumbledore's gaze slowly scanned the room and landed on the wooden box sitting on the dining room table.  
  
"I believe you missed one, Severus."  
  
"No, Headmaster, I didn't. That is one I need to give to Hermione in person - It's - It is for the baby," he softly replied.  
  
Dumbledore looked at Snape, the question written on his wrinkled face.  
  
"If you must know--" began Snape, "I call it my 'pathetic box,' to be truthful. I -"  
  
"Yes, Severus?" said the older wizard.  
  
Snape took a deep breath tinged with resignation. He briskly walked to the dining table, and with a swish and flick, removed the wards on the box. He flipped open the lid and gestured to the Headmaster to have a look.  
  
"We were trying to get pregnant when she left, obviously," he said. "I - we, had a - Let's just say that I had a strong suspicion one night that things had gone our way. It just felt right -"  
  
"That night in the lake?" queried Dumbledore, with a soft look. Snape shot him a sharp glance and nodded.  
  
"Then over the next three or four weeks, Hermione changed just a little both emotionally and physically. Not enough for anyone else in the castle to notice, but I could tell. I suspected she was pregnant, but since she hadn't actually told me, I wasn't completely sure. I thought she was waiting for the perfect moment, or to create the right mood - of course now I know that she was really waiting to see if the future version of Severus Snape measured up -- before she could decide whether or not I was allowed to know that I had fathered a child," he said.  
  
"When she disappeared, I thought she had just gotten scared - freaked out, as the kids would say - and ran off for some time to think," he continued. "I went shopping that first weekend without her and bought a gift for the baby on a whim."  
  
Snape reached into the box and pulled out a small stuffed panda bear - just the right size for little pudgy hands to squeeze and hold.  
  
"After she didn't return and it was long past what I assumed would be the due date, I couldn't bring myself to get rid of it. Stupid, isn't it?" he plunged on, not waiting for an answer. "And on occasion, when the loneliness would get to me or when I simply missed her and the baby so much it physically would hurt - I would head to Muggle London and treat myself to dinner and shopping. More often than not, I would return with another addition to the 'pathetic box.' I'm not sure what I thought I would do with the things. But, a couple times a year, I would find something I couldn't resist."  
  
"There's my dirty little secret laid bare for you, Headmaster," Snape said sadly. "I would appreciate it if you not let anyone else in on it - I'm not sure the students could survive the knowledge that 'Snape the bastard' willingly purchased and even loved these fuzzy booties and cuddly stuffed animals. I think it would finish several of them off, entirely."  
  
Dumbledore silently began to examine the contents of Snape's unofficial hope chest. Besides the panda, there were several other stuffed creatures, a silver rattle, a Muggle developmental toy in black and white that squeaked, an assortment of tiny, cloth books and a handful of soft, fuzzy, warm footie pajamas in various pastel colors. Snape reached over and took a yellow one out of Dumbledore's hands. For some reason, even when he had purchased them, the footie pajamas had always hurt the most. Perhaps because he kept envisioning a warm, rosy-cheeked and chubby infant with big brown eyes and a dusting of shiny black hair wearing them while nestling sleepily in Hermione's arms.  
  
Haunted eyes met sympathetic ones over the clothing, which Snape was now hastily and obsessively folding with shaking hands.  
  
"Severus, you can't just let her go like this," Dumbledore said after several minutes of strained silence. "I knew when you two married that you were meant to be together. I had seldom seen two young people so much in love. You were both so happy. I used to think that all the two of you ever did was laugh. You can be that couple again. You can be a happy family."  
  
Snape snorted in response. Dumbledore picked up a stuffed unicorn and stroked it gently. He looked back at Snape and continued:  
  
"I can honestly say that I have never seen anyone love this much," he gestured to the box and it's contents. "You weren't sure the child had even been conceived -- and yet you love enough to grieve and not forget over the years. My boy, you and I have not gotten along well in the past few years. I know that sometimes you wished you could just call me a bastard and storm off like you did in the Great Hall last night. But if you never listen to a word this old bastard says again, listen to this one."  
  
"You have become a miserable, hateful man," Dumbledore sighed. "You hide your great capacity to love in a box, Severus. This could be your final chance at happiness. Go to Hermione. Convince her to look past the year you spent as a Death Eater. Show her your Order of Merlin and explain exactly how you got it. Be a husband. Be a father. Quit skulking around the dungeons like an overgrown bat. You've been given a second chance at life and you are an idiot if you let it slip through your fingers."  
  
"Are you quite finished, Headmaster?"  
  
Dumbledore nodded. Snape held out his hand for the toy the older wizard still held. Putting it back in the box and snapping shut the lid, he glared at his boss.  
  
"Then get the hell out."  
  
"As you wish, Severus."  
  
Swiftly, Dumbledore exited via the fireplace, leaving Snape alone with his thoughts.  
  
And his 'pathetic box.'  
  
  
  
  
  
. 


	10. Time by the fire

Hermione left the Hospital Wing with some amount of trepidation. She and Snape had talked and although she thought she had explained why she felt the need to return briefly to the future - er, present - she felt that it had gone badly. Okay, she knew it had gone badly.  
  
He didn't even seem to be excited about the baby, she thought sadly. It was more like - well, resignation on his part. Of course, nearly twenty years had probably dimmed the anticipation for him. Or, perhaps he didn't want the baby now at all. Her hand dropped to gently caress her stomach. Poppy had been prepared to treat her and the potential miscarriage had been avoided. Things were going to be fine. She even knew what sex the baby was and could not wait to tell Snape. Maybe that will help him get excited again about being a father.  
  
But, the fact that she had been in the Hospital Wing for the last three days and she hadn't seen her lovely husband again was a bit upsetting. Dumbledore wouldn't tell her anything, nor would Poppy. They just kept telling her to give him some time.  
  
Well, it has been a long time for him, she groused. But I still would have thought he'd be happy to see me. Of course, I was the one who did the leaving last week - or years ago, actually - so maybe he's mad about that. Damn time turner. What was I thinking? I knew he had left Voldemort's ranks and become a spy for our side, so why did it all panic me so badly?  
  
Hormones, she swiftly decided.  
  
Death Eater induced panic attack mostly over - it *did* still bother her that he wore the Mark, she wouldn't lie about that - she was beginning to get excited about being home with her friends, her parents and family and her husband. And their coming child. She just wished that she knew what Severus was thinking.  
  
Hell, she sadly mused, he probably has forgotten that we were even trying to get pregnant. Now that he's moved on and made a life for himself as a single man, he probably sees my return and the baby as a hassle. What does the evil potions master and former Voldemort double agent, Severus Snape, need with a wife and baby? Much easier to do the satanic James Bond act without any little attachments, right?  
  
She sighed and trudged on down to their suite of rooms in the dungeons. Snape had apparently changed the wards so that she could still enter, as she didn't have to provide a password to the concealed doorway. That's a good sign, right? she asked herself. Taking a deep breath and protectively patting her lower abdomen, she entered.  
  
Her first thought was that little had changed. Still no fire in the fireplace, as Severus preferred to just put on another layer or heavier pajamas when he got chilled in their quarters. The kitchen and dining areas were still obsessively tidy, just like his laboratory always was. The sofas had been shifted in position a bit to accommodate a new pair of bookshelves, which were sagging under the weight of far too many books.  
  
And there were packing boxes stacked against the shelves in the far corner. Hermione froze.  
  
Boxes.  
  
He's moving out.  
  
She walked over to the boxes and opened the top one. She pulled out the crimson and gold outfit that Harry and Ron had purchased for her the day she vanished. It was his favorite gown and robes for her. She wore it the night he proposed, in fact.  
  
Wait a minute. These boxes are full of my things, she realized.  
  
Oh, shit.  
  
*I'm* moving out.  
  
She walked over to the fireplace, lighted it with a flick of her wand, and sat. Stroking the silk of her old gown, she tried to make sense of the two Severus' that were warring for attention in her brain. True, she dearly loved her young, ambitious and less sulky version - but she had sometimes found herself looking at him and thinking about the bad boy he was to become. She shivered a bit at the thought of the mature, darkly brooding, rugged man her husband was now. Grinning a bit, she had to admit to herself that she liked it. Her pregnant body's rampaging hormones had definitely responded to his touch and kiss the other night in the Hospital Wing.  
  
But the new age difference sucks, she thought. That unspoken thought was swiftly followed by the idea that the word "sucks" was most likely no longer in her older husband's vocabulary - and that he probably wouldn't appreciate it in normal conversation, either. Well, we'll just have to adjust, now won't we? she mused.  
  
"We've always been able to work things out before," she said to the empty room. "We can handle this too, Severus."  
  
***  
  
Hermione tore her gaze from the fireplace and stared - no, glared - at her lover of six months. He grinned at her, but had the grace to at least look confused, as he sat next to her in front of the library's roaring fire.  
  
"Hey, I've been looking all over for you. Are you ready to go?" he said, looking at her appreciatively. She had on his favorite gown and robes - damn, but she looked good in Gryffindor colors. He reached for her hand. "Angel?"  
  
His overture was met with silence.  
  
"So. How was your afternoon?"  
  
More silence.  
  
"Hermione?"  
  
She turned on him and spat: "I thought we were going to dinner tonight in wizarding Paris?"  
  
Confused, Severus looked at his girlfriend in shock. What was eating *her?*  
  
"We are, that's why I've been looking for you. Come on, go get your cloak and we'll go. It took me a week to get permission from Dumbledore, and I'll catch hell if we ask to reschedule," Severus said, trying another grin.  
  
Hermione turned on him, fury fading. She simply looked at him with a blank, emotionless stare.  
  
"Then why don't you ask Lucinda to go with you? I wouldn't want you to miss out on the opportunity to go because of me," she said, venom poorly concealed behind a plastic smile and pleasant words. With that, she stood and left the library, leaving a stunned Severus Snape wearing a rather stiff set of formal dress robes and staring into the flames.  
  
This was *not* how he planned the night to go.  
  
Moments later, he had caught up with her in the hallways near Gryffindor Tower.  
  
"Hermione, what the hell is wrong with you?" he hissed. "And why would I want to take Lucinda, your best friend? I love you. I've spent a long time planning tonight for our six-month anniversary. I want to spend it with you."  
  
She turned on him with the speed and spitting poison of a viper.  
  
"I saw you, Severus! Professor McGonagall asked me go to Hogsmeade today to pick up some lab mice for one of her classes. I saw you holding hands with Lucinda! And not just holding hands, you - you -- were *caressing* her hand! Standing in the street! So anyone could see you!" she yelled, loud enough to get the attention of the students lounging around the Gryffindor common room.  
  
Severus looked at the small crowd that was beginning to gather.  
  
"Did you want to hurt me in the most public way possible? Did you think I wouldn't find out? You are an ass, Severus Snape," she said, each word impaling him with its sharpness. "I don't know what I ever saw in your Slytherin -"  
  
"Hermione, you're being silly," he stammered, stunned. "I wasn't holding her hand. Please, just go get your cloak and I'll explain things once we get to the restaurant. Please. You are making a scene and you'll only regret it later."  
  
"No."  
  
"Hermione -"  
  
"The only thing I regret is ever sleeping with you."  
  
Her words hit him like a physical blow, sending him falling back to lean against the cold, stone wall. A slap would have actually been preferable, thought Severus. She turned and began to storm to the Gryffindor common room while her housemates looked like they would like to tear him to pieces. He and Lucinda exchanged glances past Hermione's shoulder and he swiftly made the decision.  
  
"Marry me, Hermione," he called, desperate.  
  
The corridor, filled just moments ago with the noise of their argument and the excited whispers of their audience, was suddenly dead silent. Hermione stopped. She didn't turn around to face him, but whispered: "What did you say?"  
  
"Marry me."  
  
She turned to look at him. A quirk of an eyebrow let him know he had some further explaining to do.  
  
"Lucinda went to Hogsmeade with me to buy your engagement ring," he said, pulling a small green velvet pouch from his robes. "She found a charm that would adjust her hand size to yours. That's why she kept squeezing your hand at breakfast - she couldn't get it to work at first. When you saw us, we were trying to get the counter-charm to work so she could have her own hand back."  
  
Hermione looked at Lucinda with a questioning glance. Lucinda smiled at her encouragingly. She looked back at Severus, who was walking towards her cautiously. Stopping in front of her, he knelt in a flourish of robes.  
  
"This isn't exactly how I planned it, you know. I'm not big on audiences, Hermione," he said, jerking his head to indicate the hushed throng of students. "But, since you haven't answered my question ---"  
  
He pulled a platinum and diamond ring from the pouch and looked up at her.  
  
"Hermione Granger, I love you and I want to marry you. Will you be my wife?" he asked simply.  
  
Hermione took a moment to find her voice, then smiled.  
  
"Yes, of course I will, Severus. I love you, too."  
  
A cheer arose from the amassed students as Severus slipped the ring on her finger. More hoots and a few teary sniffs echoed through the hallway when he then pulled her into a searing kiss. Laughing, he broke the kiss after a few moments and buried his face in her hair, whispering:  
  
"Now can we go to Paris?"  
  
***  
  
  
  
"Hermione."  
  
The word brought her out of her reverie. She looked up and smiled, feeling a bit drowsy from the warmth of the fire and because the baby was beginning to sap her energy. She looked up at her husband and smiled.  
  
He didn't smile back. He had his bastard Snape persona on - full force, she thought. He moved to the fireplace and flicked the flames out with his wand before turning to her with a grim look on his face in the now-shadowed room.  
  
"Hermione, we need to talk."  
  
  
  
  
  
Tbc  
  
  
  
Again, thanks so much for the reviews. I feel like I'm learning something from writing this short fic, so please don't hesitate to give me input on my technique. Dialogue scares me the most, to be honest. Again, thanks! 


	11. Time paradox

Hermione looked at the man standing before her and her heart suddenly broke. He was about 40, she mused. And he looked about 60; worn, tired and nearly broken. As he paced, she recognized the gait of a spy, his elegant catlike grace that had characterized the Professor Snape she grew up with. He's been through so much, she thought. I should have been here for all of it - for him.  
  
Sighing, she voiced her thoughts to the dark man sulking into the dying embers of the fire.  
  
"Yes, you should have been here. You chose to leave and I made my choices after you left. That's how life works. It sucks."  
  
She stifled a giggle at his unexpected choice of words, earning a sharp, very Snape-like glare from her partner. She stilled the mirth into a soft smile and relaxed back into her chair.  
  
"How are you, Severus?"  
  
"I've been better."  
  
They stared at each other quietly, each trying to decide how the other felt and what the other wanted from this awkward situation. Silence threatened to take the room hostage. Finally, Snape sat on one of the couches facing Hermione.  
  
"How are you feeling, Hermione?"  
  
"Good. Still disoriented, but I have admit that I feel like I'm home. Especially now that I'm back in our quarters."  
  
He winced, but continued to hold her gaze.  
  
"And, the baby?"  
  
"The baby is fine. I had spoken with Poppy about the effects of long- distance time travel on her before I decided to attempt it. She was prepared for me and was able to correct any negative effects. Of course, I had expected the Poppy of the1980s to have to help me - not the 1990s." Hermione quirked a small smile in Snape's direction. He answered with a scowl. "I'm about six weeks along now. I had planned to tell you that night -"  
  
"I figured as much when I saw you had set a formal dinner for two," interrupted Snape, bitterly. "I wish you had left a note. Or - something. Dumbledore's assurances that I would see you again were cold comfort."  
  
"I know. I intended to make the trip, see how you were and then come back before dinner. I had every intention of telling you everything that night - from how you had been my professor, to my trip back in time, to how Voldemort would attempt to court you for your potions and Dark Arts skills. And I hoped to tell you that things looked better in the future we had created than in one that I had left. If that makes any sense," Hermione tried another smile, shaking her head.  
  
Surprisingly, Snape smiled back.  
  
"When we studied time turners during my sixth year, I swore I'd never let myself get caught in one of these Merlin-forsaken time paradoxes. The past is the future, the future is the past, it all just gives me a damned headache. I must say I'm relieved that it seems to have a similar effect on you," he said.  
  
Snape stretched his long legs out in front of him and relaxed back into the sofa cushions. Hermione fought the urge to go to him and curl up by his side. But, she decided to stay put and let him make the first move - he was, after all, the injured party here.  
  
"Having any morning sickness?" he asked.  
  
"Yes," blushed Hermione. "I was especially grateful to be in the Hospital Wing yesterday. They brought in fish and chips for the sick students there and the smell almost killed me."  
  
"No fish. I'll remember that tidbit of information." He smiled slightly.  
  
"But, the baby is really doing well?" he repeated, needing assurance.  
  
"She's fine."  
  
"She-?"  
  
"Yes."  
  
Snape sighed and closed his eyes. They had talked frequently during the year they were trying to conceive about whether they wanted a boy or a girl. Snape had always insisted he wanted a girl, and to hell with carrying on the family name. A girl, he thought. No, a daughter.  
  
"When is she due?"  
  
"May 25th."  
  
They sat in silence once again. She smiled at her husband, who was still sulking a bit, but she could tell he was beginning to soften towards her and their situation. Finally.  
  
"And in about 11 years, you'll have a little Snape to teach all about potions," she teased. "Although, knowing you, she'll be prepared for her potions NEWTS before she even enters Hogwarts."  
  
"And you'll have her ready to Apparate and transfigure into an animagus, too, I'm sure," he replied, quietly. "I don't suppose there is much chance of the baby being a squib with us for parents. You are a very powerful witch, Hermione. I didn't recognize that when we were married, but being your professor all these years made me realize it. Your powers amaze me."  
  
"Thank you." She paused, thoughtfully. "Was it horrible having to teach my eleven-year-old self?"  
  
"You have no idea." He stood and began pacing the room. "It was a horrible paradox. I couldn't show you favoritism even though your older self was my wife. I felt terribly guilty for being mean to you and your friends, but I was so angry at the position I was put in -"  
  
"Severus--"  
  
"Dammit, Hermione!" he spat. "I am a damn good teacher. I take my responsibilities in the development of my students very seriously. I have never -- not once in nearly 20 years of teaching - felt an inappropriate attraction or lust for any of our older girls. Even when the other male faculty members would joke at the Head Table about the 'assets' certain students had developed - But, I never - "  
  
Snape gripped the fireplace mantle with both hands and refused to look at her as he decided how best to go on. His wedding ring shone on his left hand, she noticed with a jolt of excitement. He didn't have it on in the Hospital Wing a few days ago, she thought, smiling slightly. Despite her happiness at this discovery, as his silence stretched into minutes and his breathing became heavier, she became frightened with what he would say next. Finally, he gathered himself together enough to continue icily:  
  
"Do you have any idea how hard it is to be faced with the 11-year-old version of the only woman you've ever loved and the only woman you've ever made love to? Every day? How disgusted I was with myself when I would watch you and I would catch a glimpse of the woman I knew you would become in your eyes or your smile -- and I would get bloody aroused? In class. By a CHILD!" he hissed dangerously. "I thought I was going insane or worse, that I might somehow become some repulsive pedophile. It's a wonder I'm not more of an evil bastard than I am."  
  
Hermione stood and walked to him, putting her arms around his waist and hugging him from behind. He was breathing heavily and trying very hard not to start bawling like an infant.  
  
"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to put you through all of that."  
  
He took a deep shuddering breath and replied: "I know."  
  
"I could try to go back and change thi-"  
  
"No. It's not worth the life of our child," he replied softly, still not turning to meet her eyes. "I would rather have lived through it all than put her and her mother in danger, Hermione."  
  
They stood by the fireplace for a few minutes before Snape extricated himself from her embrace and walked back to the sofa, motioning her to follow. They sat, not quite touching, but close enough to feel the warmth radiating from each other's bodies.  
  
"Did you and Dumbledore ever work out how I was sent back in time, Severus?" Hermione asked. "He and I could never figure it out in the past, but I thought maybe there was some clue left behind in the present."  
  
"No," he said. "No, we haven't figured it out. We scanned the area for residual magic and to see if we could determine if there was someone else on the road to Hogsmeade that day. But only students and teachers passed that space that day. And the only people present when you vanished were myself, Mr. Potter and Mr. Weasley."  
  
He paused, hesitant to tell her his suspicions.  
  
"I've always suspected it was someone connected with Voldemort and the Death Eaters."  
  
She gasped.  
  
"Why? What advantage would there be of sending me to the past? If I'm a threat, just kill me -"  
  
"Hermione," he began. "I think you were sent back with the intent of hurting me or at least interfering with the past enough to - well, be the catalyst for my joining the Death Eaters. But, then, when you were sent back from the future, I was already spying against them and active in their ranks, supposedly. That's what I suspect, but it's all such a confusing circle -"  
  
"I know. It makes your head hurt." She paused. "Poppy tells me that you and Harry defeated Voldemort at Halloween."  
  
"We - stopped him momentarily, Hermione," he said, softly. "I do not believe he is gone for good. But perhaps long enough for us to enjoy some peace. We needed it."  
  
Hermione bit her lip, thinking and studying him intently.  
  
"What is it, Hermione?"  
  
"May I see it?"  
  
"See what?"  
  
"The Dark Mark."  
  
He looked at her intently. Slowly, he removed his robes and began to roll up the sleeve of his shirt. It wasn't pretty, but it didn't look as sinister as she had remembered from her fourth year. Carefully, she traced the outline of the mark with her finger, making him gasp.  
  
"Don't, Hermione," he said, his eyes pleading with her. "It's - evil."  
  
Smiling as reassuringly as she could, she clasped the hand the mark resided above and drew it to her stomach.  
  
"It's all in the past, Severus," she said. "This is our future."  
  
Snape ripped his arm away from Hermione's grasp and shot up off the sofa. He stormed around the room a few times at a frantic pace, muttering to himself and with a wild look of panic on his rugged, creased face. Finally, he turned to Hermione.  
  
"I have worked with Minerva to arrange you a set of rooms near Gryffindor tower," he said, firmly and without emotion. "I will remain your husband until the baby is born so she does not have to suffer the title of 'bastard,' however I will do you the courtesy of divorcing you and giving up my rights to her soon after. You are free to find a husband who does not bear the Dark Mark, Hermione."  
  
"Severus!" Hermione said, in shock. "I don't care about that -"  
  
"I do. And I do not want my daughter to be raised around evil. I am evil, Hermione. I do not want any arguments. You are too young to understand the repercussions of our remaining married. I am the adult in this situation," he said with icy calmness. "I expect to find my rooms empty when I return tonight from dinner."  
  
With that, he stalked to the entrance and quietly left the room, leaving Hermione staring at the closed door. Confused. Very confused.  
  
"You know, I have really had it with this superiority complex of yours," sighed Hermione to the empty room.  
  
  
  
tbc 


	12. The next day

The next day, after getting marginally settled in her new Gryffindor Tower rooms - marginally, as she stubbornly decided not to unpack more than her box of toiletries and clothes - Hermione headed to the library for some research on the history of the past 17 years. Everything was as she had left it that day on the road from Hogsmeade. That, at least, was reassuring. Apparently, she had come full circle in her travels through time and everything was somehow, ridiculously, as it should be.  
  
Now, if I can only figure out how I was sent back to the 1970s in the first place, she mused. A stack of magical books on the use of time turners and time traveling spells joined Muggle texts by scientists such as Stephen Hawking on her table. After an hour or two, she began to head toward the restricted section and the books about the Arithmancy of time and space when two boisterous seventh years noisily invaded the library.  
  
"Hermione!" called Ron and Harry.  
  
"Boys!" she responded, smiling. She had sent them a brief letter the day after she had arrived, letting them know that she was well and just had some things to "work out" before joining the real world again. The three met in the center of the library in a giant group bear hug with several pecks and friendly smooches thrown in for good measure.  
  
After a few minutes, the trio sat down in front of the roaring fireplace to catch up. Harry told Hermione all about the dangerous mission that he, Snape, Dumbledore, McGonagall and Ron had went on at Halloween. Working against Fudge's wishes and in great secrecy, the Hogwarts team had penetrated the Death Eaters stronghold on Malfoy's estate and, in disguise, had managed to help Snape slip Voldemort a large dose of poison. As their leader crumbled to dust leaving only a reptilian skeleton in front of them, the Death Eaters split into two groups: the power hungry hangers-on who promptly apparated for home before being caught; and the loyal revenge- seekers who turned on the Hogwarts team with killing curses and raw hatred. Snape had gotten it the worst, Harry told her, as the remaining loyalists sought to punish the traitor that had suddenly put an end to their party. He and Harry had spent two weeks together, healing, in the Hospital Wing - playing countless games of chess and Harry's favorite Muggle board game, Monopoly. Harry had developed a truce of sorts with the older man and had come to respect his bravery and devotion to the cause. Even if he did still think he was a cranky, sour, greasy git most of the time. But, Harry had to give credit where credit was due.  
  
"You should be proud of him, Hermione," Harry finished. "He is a hero, he even was finally given an Order of Merlin. We all did, but he and I were awarded First Class, and he definitely deserved it."  
  
Harry gave his two friends a half grin and continued: "Me, I just got it because I'm the damned Boy Who Lived and it was expected. But there was quite a controversy last month when Snape's honor was announced."  
  
Hermione sat quietly and waited for the other male portion of their group to say something. Ron grimaced and finally decided to speak up.  
  
"Was he at least - well, nice in the past, Hermione?" he finally choked out as Hermione and Harry stifled smiles at his discomfort. Hermione nodded. "I'm sorry, I'm just having a hard time with the whole time travel thing in the first place, not to mention the fact that you are - geez, married to Snape. I mean, are you going to stay married? The Marauder's Map showed us that you're staying mostly near Gryffindor Tower, why aren't you in the dungeons?"  
  
Hermione sat quietly for a moment and considered what to tell her two best friends.  
  
"Yes, we are staying married, Ron. I'm living in Gryffindor for the moment because Severus needs some time to adjust to my being home. To me, I left the 1980s and jumped right into this time with no pause. To him, I left the 1980s and just now reappeared after a 17 -ear absence. It's going to take some time, but I think he'll come around soon."  
  
Hermione then took a deep breath and explained the tenuous circle that began with her departure from their seventh year, led to her marriage to Snape and then back to the present. Thinking the idea that she was carrying Snape's baby (and the thought of the act that had surely caused it) would probably do Ron in at the moment, she left out her exact reasoning for wanting to check on their future. Harry, however, had different ideas.  
  
"Hermione, I don't understand why you chose that moment to come back? I mean, if you had the ability all those months and years to return --?" Harry asked confused.  
  
"I didn't always have the ability, Harry. Shortly after my marriage, I found an old time turner in a box of Snape family jewelry that Severus' mother had given me. It was only functional for hour-long time jumps, but after some time I was able to charm it to cover years instead. But, I was happy for the most part in the past with Severus, and decided not to ever make the jump unless necessary," Hermione replied. "Besides, I was certain that I'd messed history up enough in my one adventure through time."  
  
Ron nodded and patted Hermione's hand.  
  
"We'll forgive you, Hermione, for not coming back to us right away. Even if you were with Snape," Ron shuddered. "I can't imagine being in that position. Dumbledore told us the other night about how torn the two of you were at first, whether to try and send you back or not. He tried to explain the ethics of the situation, but it really just made my head hurt."  
  
Hermione laughed and nodded, hugging Ron again.  
  
"Wait, hang on -- what made coming home again necessary? You are hiding something, Mrs. Snape, I can tell!" said Harry, grinning. Hermione glanced sharply at him and Harry's eyebrows hit the ceiling. "And I think I know what it is!"  
  
Hermione looked at Harry in horror for a moment before letting her eyes drift to Ron, who was looking rather worried himself. The three sat for a moment - she nervous, Harry almost gleeful and Ron concerned. She finally cleared her throat and made her announcement with a wry grin.  
  
"Boys. I'm pregnant."  
  
And for the second time in a week, Ron Weasley passed out.  
  
Hermione and Harry chuckled as Harry tentatively reached a hand out to pat her still-flat tummy with more than a bit of awe. They hugged and Harry congratulated her. As they parted, their eyes were drawn to Ron.  
  
"I suppose we'd better wake him up," Harry said, his green eyes sparkling like Dumbledore's.  
  
After reviving Ron and after Hermione promised that never, ever -- not even while under the Imperius curse -- would she ever share any information about her sex life with Snape within ear shot of Ron - the trio linked arms and headed to the Great Hall and lunch.  
  
The Great Hall was beautiful, Hermione thought. Light shone in through the leaded-glass windows and she could faintly see a dusting of snow joining the whiteness that already lay on the ground. Unsure of where she should sit, Hermione allowed herself to be tugged to the Gryffindor table and was swiftly drawn into a conversation about the last three months and her three years in the past. She told stories about people's parents and older relatives, ratted out Severus on a few secrets she didn't think the students knew from his school days, talked about their wedding and showed off her lovely wedding and engagement rings, and begged Lavendar to send a message to her mother - Lucinda - for her. And she listened to stories about the Hogwarts' victory over Voldemort, the latest Quidditch matches, who was dating whom, who was engaged and which recent graduates were married or expecting. She never mentioned the baby she was carrying, however. Harry shot her a concerned gaze when she didn't mention her pregnancy and she slowly shook her head at him.  
  
Later, she mouthed silently. Ron caught the exchange and reached under the table to squeeze her hand. She smiled at them both. Yes, it really was good to be home.  
  
She was so engrossed in conversation with her former classmates that she didn't notice her husband enter from the side staff door and take his seat at the Head Table. He immediately heard her gleeful laugh, however, and his eyes quickly found her at her old house table. She sat between her "honor guard" of Potter and Weasley and occasionally one or both of them would reach down to hold her hand or put their arms around her shoulders for a quick, reassuring squeeze. Somehow, it was comforting that she had friends to turn to, even if he really didn't.  
  
Harry looked up at that moment and caught his professor's eye. He brought his goblet up for a mute, mock toast and trailed his eyes from Snape to Hermione's belly and then back. He cocked his head cheekily at the frowning potions master and drank deeply of his pumpkin juice. Snape's mouth quirked into what Harry supposed was a grin and he nodded, shifting his gaze to the happily chatting and oblivious Hermione. He left his gaze on her, barely touching his own lunch, for the rest of the meal. Finally, he decided to head back to the dungeons and begin his annual Christmas inventory of his stock and supplies. A final backwards glance at his wife showed that the Gryffindor table was lingering over their food long past the normal lunch hour - and that the table held students from all four houses and at least two teachers.  
  
Some time later, under the angry gaze of impatient house elves wishing to clean up from lunch, the group decided to put on their heavy winter cloaks and trudge outside for some snowy, Christmasy fun. The Slytherin contingent of the group, surprisingly Crabbe and Goyle, even decided to join in making snow angels and tossing around a few snowballs. Apparently, they had decided that if associating with a Gryffindor and mudblood was good enough for the Head of their house, then it was good enough for them, as well, Hermione mused. She couldn't remember seeing the rather menacing twosome laugh and have fun - when it wasn't at another's expense, that is.  
  
Soon, a rousing snowball fight between teams formed loosely of Slytherin and Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw and Gryffindor began. Heat-seeking missle snowballs were quickly charmed and launched, balls enchanted to scream as they sought their target flew through the air over their makeshift fort and a few Filibuster fireworks found their way from Ron's pockets and were stuffed inside snow that was lobbed in the Slytherin-Hufflepuff direction - exploding over their heads in a rain of icy water and sparks. Hermione was careful to avoid any rough and tumble collisions, but she could not resist the temptation to join in. Just as she had figured out how to charm a snowball to whirl like a top while spitting ice and snow all over her opponents, she was slammed in the face by a loudly screaming snowbomb. From the grin on Goyle's triumphant face, she was pretty sure she knew where it came from, too. She wound up and prepared to launch her whirling bomb at him, when he suddenly froze and clattered to the ground under what could only be Petrificus Totalis.  
  
The merry group began to laugh and everyone looked around attempting to figure out who enchanted a snowball to perform that particular hex. All eyes soon fell on Professor Snape, where he stood menacingly glaring at them in the snow.  
  
He wasn't pleased. Pissed would be an appropriate word, Ron thought, looking at Goyle in sympathy.  
  
He spun from his position near Goyle and stalked to Hermione through the silence that had fallen.  
  
"Miss Granger," he began.  
  
"Mrs. Snape," she replied.  
  
"Hermione," he conceded, with a silky hiss that had most of the students on the lawn shivering in fright. "You may not care anything about the baby you are currently carrying, but I most assuredly do. You've already risked her life once with an ill-advised jump through time and I had assumed that would have been enough to scare you into taking better care of yourself. It appears I was wrong. I must ask that you refrain from this childish and potentially dangerous entertainment and attempt to be an adult while you are pregnant with my child. Once the baby is born, please feel free to return to your childish, carefree life and allow your friends once again to hurl hexes and projectiles at you at their whim."  
  
"But for now, you will cease this stupid, childish and dangerous game," he spat, moving into her until they were nearly nose-to-nose. "Believe me, our little girl is not a game."  
  
Without waiting for her to reply, he began to stalk off towards the castle. Hermione was fuming. How dare he, she thought at first, then she gave voice to it.  
  
"How DARE you, Severus Snape?" she yelled after the dark figure. "You possessive, domineering, self-centered, pompous, superior, overgrown bloody BAT!"  
  
He stopped at the top of the stairs leading into the castle for a moment. The group of students gasped collectively and waited for their professor to explode. To their surprise, he did not. Without turning to acknowledge his wife, he swept into the castle and softly shut the doors behind him.  
  
Harry and Ron sped to Hermione's side, while Lavender and Ginny attempted to remove the hex from Goyle. Hermione was fuming. Harry pulled her to him for a tight hug before pulling away and looking into her eyes.  
  
"Hermione, go to him and work this out. I don't know what is wrong, but - " he hesitated nervously for a moment, trying to put his thoughts into words, and wishing there wasn't an audience. "But, if I had a wife as beautiful and smart and nice as you, and she was carrying my baby AND she'd been gone for years and years - well, let's just say she wouldn't be living in another part of the castle. In fact, if I were Snape, I'm not sure I'd let you out of bed, much less the dungeons."  
  
A few of the students milling around worriedly looked at Harry in shock at his words. Several of their classmates looked like they may pass out from the news that vile Professor Snape had created an offspring with one of their own, in fact, and Harry talking about sex was simply making a bad situation worse. However, Hermione and Ron were used to speaking frankly with each other, and they just waited for Harry to cautiously continue.  
  
"So, I know there must be some pretty serious problems between you two, I knew it before this afternoon when neither of you came down for meals or were anywhere to be found and this little spat just confirms it. Hermione, you have to work it out. Dumbledore said Snape has waited all these years for another chance with you. Hermione, he's been faithful to you for 17 years, did you know that?" asked Harry of his furious friend.  
  
"No, I didn't," she replied, secretly relieved at the knowledge. "But, that doesn't give him an excuse to behave like a total ass."  
  
"Snape's always a total ass, Hermione," piped up Crabbe, who had Goyle leaning on him. "You'll just have to get used to him again."  
  
"No, I want my husband back, and by Gods, I'm going to get him - not the bastard that I saw today," snapped Hermione. "Excuse me, I believe I have some business in the dungeons."  
  
With a reassuring look from Ron and Harry and looks of fear from her former classmates, Hermione squared her shoulders and stomped off toward the castle. Her furious gait mimicked that of her husband and the assembled group could almost see the rage, steam and determination emanating from her.  
  
Harry and Ron exchanged a knowing look. They were two of the few people that had ever been on the receiving end of Hermione's ill temper and her rage. Ron shook his head.  
  
"You know, I never liked the guy, but I'm sure gonna miss him," he intoned.  
  
"Yep, Snape is totally fucked," countered Harry.  
  
  
  
Tbc  
  
  
  
  
  
Thanks again for all the reviews. I hope that as the story moves along the time jumps will only become clearer and clearer. If it doesn't make perfect sense yet, don't worry, it's not really supposed to. There are a total of 20 chapters of this story and the whole time travel thing won't be cleared up until the end. So, it isn't you, those of you who were afraid you'd missed something crucial -- you're not crazy. ( It's supposed to be a bit of a mystery to everyone, including Hermione and Severus. Thanks again for reading and reviewing everyone! 


	13. Before dinner

Hermione stormed into the castle and fired into the potions classroom, slamming doors behind her and flinging her cloak, scarf and mittens as she went.  
  
"What the hell is the matter with you, Severus?"  
  
Snape had popped his head out of his office at her entrance and was now leaning against the doorframe, sipping a glass of whiskey and examining his wife with a rather defiant gaze.  
  
"Did you decide to come in from your 'play' and act like an adult, Mrs. Snape?" he queried. "Are the rest of the children upset with the loss of their little playmate?"  
  
Snape moved to his desk and sat down, setting his highball glass down and picking up a quill and a sheaf of parchments. Hermione remained at the door of the classroom, staring at him in disbelief.  
  
"You're going to grade papers?" she hissed. "Our marriage is falling apart, you're accusing me of being a poor mother, you're drinking straight whiskey at three in the afternoon - and you are going to calmly sit there and grade papers?"  
  
Snape took a swig of his drink and looked at Hermione.  
  
"Yes."  
  
He turned to his paperwork and ignored her presence.  
  
Hermione decided to calm down a bit before proceeding with this conversation. Looking for a distraction, she began to nose around the potions classroom. It had been a long time since she had been in it - since she finished her potions NEWT, actually. When she and her younger Snape had moved and made Hogwarts their home, he had spent many hours studying under their old potions master, but she had spent the better part of the last two years at Oxford honing her Transfiguration skills. Snape watched her under lowered lashes as she walked to the potions he had bubbling over fires in one corner. She leaned over and sniffed each one, attempting to discern what he brewing. Eventually, she worked her way over to a neatly organized area where Snape was apparently grinding down and preparing various roots, moss and winter berries he had gathered from the Forbidden Forest. She dipped one finger into a bowl of crushed purple berries and was shocked at the reaction of her hitherto silent company.  
  
"Hermione! What are you doing? You stupid little girl! That is a poisonous berry you are toying with!" he cried, racing across the room. He grabbed Hermione's hand and pulled her over to the row of sinks. He was shaking slightly as he scrubbed her hand clean of the crushed berries.  
  
"Will you not get it through your head? You need to be careful! You have more than just yourself to worry about now," he said, anger and sarcasm slipping as his concern mounted. He visibly forced his temper down and brought one wet hand up to her chin running a finger over her lower lip slowly, almost seductively. "Don't you want the baby, Hermione?"  
  
Hermione didn't know whether to be touched, annoyed or furious with his concern and sudden devotion. As she hadn't managed to calm down much yet, she chose fury.  
  
"What do you mean, 'don't I want the baby,' Severus? You are the one, if you recall, that is planning to disown the baby and her mother the moment she comes into this world. You are the one that wants so little do to with us that you moved us to live in another part of the castle. YOU are the one that wants to pretend that the past never happened," she stormed, backing him across the classroom in her anger. "You are the one who needs to be giving me some answers, Snape. I know this situation is difficult and far less than ideal, but I'm here, she's here and we aren't going away so you damned well better get used to it. You need to resolve your issues and move on."  
  
Finally, backed against the dungeon wall, he grabbed her upper arms and pulled her roughly against his chest.  
  
"I had better get used to it? ME?! I think you are the one with the 'issues,' my dear wife. I'm not the one that risked traveling through 17 years of time with an antique time turner that was shakily spelled, while six weeks pregnant, to check up on my spouse. Well, you're here and I'm a Death Eater. Surprise! I was an active one for quite some time, Hermione. I created potions that killed and maimed and destroyed people and their lives. After my defection, I attended meetings as a spy and participated in the deaths of countless more souls on both sides. And I'm not personally convinced that the spying and the act of ridding the world of Voldemort has redeemed me, as my esteemed peers and colleagues seem to think," he growled into her ear.  
  
"So, my dear, if you thought you had issues with my wearing the Mark before, you might reconsider your oh-so-hasty decision of last night to accept me as the father of your child. You might find, after some reflection, that she needs a parent that isn't touched by evil," he finished.  
  
"I've read all about the final battle, Severus," she said. "I've spoken to Harry and Dumbledore and I am certain you have redeemed yourself. My earlier fears weren't completely justified, Severus. You are the man I want as the father of my child and you are the man I want to spend the rest of my life with. I'm sorry for leaving you all those years ago, but we need to move on. We're going to be parents, for Merlin's sake!"  
  
"Do you want to be married to a man like me? Or have our daughter to grow up with a murderer and Death Eater for a father?" he asked incredulously.  
  
"No, I want her to grow up with her father, the man who learned from his mistakes and earned an Order of Merlin defeating Voldemort," she said with more than a little bit of venom left in her voice.  
  
Snape's eyes narrowed dangerously at her tone.  
  
"But you don't want to be married to that man, I take it?" he said. "No matter, we can have a marriage in name only, if you wish."  
  
It was Hermione's turn to glare. She considered his words for a moment and spat:  
  
"So you can go and have your way with the women who are lined up to shag the potions master and hero, I suppose? What a great pick up line, 'my wife doesn't really care,'" she said.  
  
"It's more believable than my old line, 'my wife and I met when she went back in time, I'm teaching her twelve-year-old self right now and could use a good shag before she's legal once again,'" he retorted, his voice intentionally cutting and hurtful.  
  
Hermione reared back as though slapped. Harry, she thought wildly, Harry said that Dumbledore believed he hadn't touched anot - She looked at Snape's smug grin and began to doubt. It appeared he had fooled even their perceptive Headmaster.  
  
"I was under the impression that you had remained faithful to me in my absence," she finally choked out.  
  
Snape laughed and glared at her. He narrowed his eyes, hiding his hurtful lie under his lowered lashes.  
  
"You were gone for 17 years, Hermione, what did you expect?" he hissed.  
  
They stood silently for a moment, her arms still caught in his vice-like grip and their bodies crushed together against the cold dungeon wall. Suddenly, Snape dipped his head and captured Hermione's lips in a brutal yet passionate kiss. Very unlike the kiss they had shared with so much love and emotion in the Hospital Wing just days ago, this kiss was about frustration, pain and anger.  
  
After a moment's struggle, Hermione gave in to the feelings that the kiss was stirring in her and kissed him back. He nearly lifted her off the stone floor as he crushed her tighter to his chest. In response, she tore her arms from his grasp and put them around his neck - pulling herself up to wrap her legs around his waist. He briefly lost his balance and leaned back against the wall to anchor himself more firmly as he began a frantic exploration of her body through her robes. Hermione broke away from the kiss to mutter a quick charm and suddenly, they were both undressed, their bodies touching and the proof of his arousal hot against her thigh. With no further preliminaries, he grasped her backside, lifting her briefly up, before settling her firmly down on his erection. They stopped their insane movements for a moment and both gasped at the feeling of finally being connected once again. Then, all thoughts of parenting, babies, Death Eaters, time spent apart or other women that might have shared Severus' bed were gone as they began moving together, awkwardly, against the dungeon wall. Not willing to break the spell that had somehow been cast, neither made an attempt to move their activities to a desk or the floor. Snape knew he wouldn't last long after all the time he had spent missing her, and he cleared his thoughts long enough to recall and mutter a long-unused spell in his lover's ear to ensure they both reached climax. At that, Hermione stopped moving and pulled away from his demanding lips.  
  
"Hermione, what -" he asked, looking more than a bit frantically at her and attempting to continue the somewhat erratic rhythm they had established.  
  
"Tell me the truth, Severus," she looked deeply into his black eyes. "Tell me."  
  
He knew what she was asking and for a moment, the hurt part of him considered lying to her once again. After a moment, Snape found his voice and choked out:  
  
"It's only you, Hermione. It's only ever been you."  
  
Once again he captured her lips in a bruising kiss and they began to move together once again. Soon, both were shuddering and Snape was grappling for purchase on the stones with his bare feet as he lowered his precious cargo to the floor.  
  
"I love you, husband," Hermione breathed. "Don't ever doubt that."  
  
"And I love you, Angel," replied Snape, panting rather heavily and burying his red face in her hair. After a few moments, he raised his head and looked into Hermione's eyes. "Dearest?"  
  
"Yes, Severus?"  
  
"Next time I get carried away like that, please remind me that I'm more than 40 years old and this old body can't do that the way we did as teenagers," he said, with more than a hint of self-deprecation.  
  
Hermione laughed, earning a half-hearted scowl from her husband and lover.  
  
"I will, love," she said. "You know, I kind of like the older version of my husband, actually."  
  
"Oh and why is that?" he asked, twirling one of her curls around his finger.  
  
"I've always had a thing for bad boys - you know, James Dean, the villains in movies, lead singers of bad metal bands, reformed evil git potions masters," she said, grinning. She leaned in to kiss him gently, sweetly. "Shall we move this to your quarters, my darling, cunning Slytherin?"  
  
"By all means," Snape replied, shaking his head and laughing at his beautiful wife. "By all means." 


	14. A few days

The days before Christmas were days of adjustments for Hermione and Snape. She remained in her quarters in Gryffindor Tower, while they took some time to get to know one another once again and re-establish boundaries for their marriage and relationship. The morning after their rather enthusiastic reconciliation found the pair quietly enjoying breakfast in Snape's quarters with the paper and light conversation. Neither felt up to facing the populous of the Great Hall - reduced though the numbers were due to the Christmas holidays.  
  
"Miss Granger, could you pass me the syrup, please," said Snape, not looking up from his paper and holding out his hand to Hermione. When she didn't respond or place the requested item in his grasp, he looked up with an annoyed expression on his face.  
  
Hermione sat staring at him for a moment, until realization of what he had said hit him.  
  
"Dammit, I'm sorry, Hermione," he said, grinning ruefully. "It's just been so long since I've been able to call you anything but Miss Granger. If I had let slip with your given name or with a 'Mrs. Snape' in class over the last six or so years, you would have run screaming, Potter would have hexed me and Weasley would have turned positively green. I think I deserve a little time to get adjusted to the new situation, Angel."  
  
Hermione sighed, passed him the syrup, and gathered her courage to speak.  
  
"Why am I afraid of what is about to come out of your mouth?" asked Snape, looking at her warily.  
  
"It's nothing bad," began Hermione. "I just wonder if we shouldn't have taken this a bit more slowly. Last night and this morning were wonderful, don't get me wrong. But it doesn't wipe out the last 17 years for you, does it? This is difficult for you and perhaps the shift, from student back to lover and wife, is too quick for you. What can I do to help you with this, Severus? Tell me. Please."  
  
Snape sat quietly for a few moments. Then he rose and walked around the table to kneel in front of Hermione.  
  
"Give me a few days, Hermione," he said, sighing. "I'm struggling with having you back in my life, back in my home, back in my bed. It's not easy for me, you are right."  
  
No more words were said as the older wizard laid his head in his young wife's lap. Silently, she stroked his raven hair as they contemplated where life - and time - had brought them.  
  
The breakfast quickly became a new, yet old, ritual for the pair. As a young, married couple with hurried lives - hurry to Oxford, hurry to the potions classroom, hurry to the official dinner in the Great Hall, hurry to start a family, hurry to do everything - they had made it a point of sharing a large, traditional English breakfast every morning. They both routinely had skipped lunch and felt obligated to eat dinner with the masses in the Great Hall every night, so it was their quiet time. It was becoming their quiet time yet again and that was both comforting and familiar.  
  
Their days were spent together, as much as possible. Talking about books, talking about the baby, talking about anything and everything, really. They also took on the project of opening the second floor of Snape's quarters and making plans to reclaim it as living space. House elves scurried around them as they helped the couple clean the rooms. Winky took the painting of the rooms on as a special project, warding the floor below against the fumes for Hermione. Soon after Christmas, they would be able to move Snape and Hermione's things back in to their old bedroom. And Snape, despite knowing they needed to slow things down for at least a little while, was looking forward to that day. He was aching to claim his wife again physically - and was also looking forward to 'christening' their old bedroom, and the bath, and the nursery, and the upstairs guest room and any other room in the castle he could get access to, for that matter. Having trouble keeping his hands off of her, he would frequently stop their work or their chats and take Hermione in his arms, kissing her until they were both breathless.  
  
It was almost enough.  
  
The morning of Christmas Eve, Snape was just stepping out of the shower as he heard Hermione enter his quarters and call for him.  
  
"I'll be out in just a minute!" he replied, from the bathroom. "We had a dung bomb incident this morning in Slytherin. Why anyone thinks dung bombs are appropriate Christmas gifts for children, I do not know. But I absolutely had to shower again after getting out of the Common Room."  
  
Hermione laughed and set about summoning a House Elf to bring them breakfast. Her stomach was doing flips, so she decided that dry toast and herbal tea would do the job for her. She ordered Snape's favorite, French toast with strawberry syrup and whipped cream, for him - smiling at the sickeningly sweet plate when it arrived. Who would have ever guessed that her 'meat and potatoes man' of the past had developed a sweet tooth? Not to mention what the students would think of his pink and white, rather frothy, favorite breakfast. She laughed again and set the table with a swish of her wand. As a final Christmasy touch, she added a centerpiece of greenery and red roses.  
  
Arms slid around her waist in a gentle hug as Snape snuck up behind her to nuzzle her throat. She leaned back into the embrace and drew one hand up to entangle in his still-damp hair as they relaxed and basked in each other's presence. One of his hands drifted to her stomach for a caress and Hermione briefly wondered if he could follow her around all day and do that - it was the first time since she had awoken that she didn't feel like throwing up.  
  
"You smell absolutely wonderful," Snape said, after a moment of silence.  
  
Hermione chuckled.  
  
"I would take that as a compliment if I didn't know you had been sniffing dung bombs all morning," she said, turning around and swatting him playfully on the arm.  
  
He bent down and pressed a light kiss on her lips, gasping in slight shock as she leapt into the kiss and suddenly pressed into him, exploring his body roughly with her hands and his mouth with her tongue.  
  
'Ah,' he thought, vaguely. 'Pregnancy hormones. Not bad, that.'  
  
Giving in and deciding that the 'slow' approach to the physical side of their relationship was highly overrated, he returned her fevered caresses and began slowly easing them toward the couch. She had just torn his half- buttoned shirt from his damp chest and began working on his trousers when they reached their destination. He eased her onto the couch and began working on her robes - just as she lurched to a sitting position and looked at him with horror written across her face.  
  
"Hermione?" he asked, rubbing his jaw where she had cracked him as she sat up. "What is wrong?"  
  
She suddenly bolted for the bathroom, leaving a very stunned and aroused Severus Snape sitting on the couch and listening to his wife's muffled retching. Sighing, he went back to the table and grabbed her cup of tea before following her into the bathroom so he could hold back her hair and help her wipe her flushed face.  
  
After all, wasn't that what husbands were supposed to do, he thought. 


	15. Christmas Eve

'Christmas Eve may have started out badly,' mused Snape, 'but it is not going to end that way if I have anything to say about it.'  
  
The dreaded potions master was rampaging around his quarters, cleaning up and decorating for Christmas. After Hermione left to go rest in her quarters, he asked Hagrid to bring in a small tree and help him decorate it. They had a surprisingly good time putting Muggle tinsel and ornaments on the tree while sharing brandy and some cookies, mused Snape, as he looked at his little, pretty tree after Hagrid had left. He turned and soon the table was covered with a red tablecloth, gold runner and china and crystal with golden rims. Hermione's centerpiece remained and he smiled at their combined efforts. Satisfied with that project, he began wildly flinging his wand about to hang enchanted icicles from the ceiling, sparkling snow to cover the mantle and drift down onto the hearth and, of course, mistletoe to hang in the doorway of his first-floor bedroom.  
  
'Perfect,' he decided.  
  
He walked to his desk and quickly wrote out a note to Hermione, asking her to put on his 'favorite dress robes' and to meet him in 'their' quarters at dinnertime. He then warded his chambers from any accidental peeking on Hermione's part and headed to the owlry and the kitchens to wrap up his plans.  
  
At 6 p.m. she knocked at the door. Nervously, dressed in his best robes, Snape dimmed the lights with a flick of his wand and answered her rap.  
  
Hermione.  
  
It was the Hermione that he remembered and the Hermione of his frustrated and lonely dreams. She had on the crimson and gold gown he had seen her buying the day she disappeared, the day he fell in love with her, the night they first made love and the afternoon that he had proposed. And with a little luck and if they could keep the vomiting to a minimum, he thought, stifling a chuckle, he would have another memory of her in that dress to add to the list. She was breathtaking. He didn't think he would ever tire of seeing her in that gown.  
  
For her part, Hermione was also devouring the appearance of her partner. Deep green frock coat and pants, so dark they were nearly black. His hair pulled back in a ponytail and his eyes sparkling fire in the candlelight. She didn't think she could ever tire of seeing the look of love and passion in his eyes.  
  
With a smile, he stepped back from the doorway and gestured for her to enter. She walked past him and gasped at the decorations sparkling in the low light.  
  
"Severus! It's beautiful!" she gasped.  
  
He closed the door softly and he stepped behind her and took her robes from her shoulders. He dropped a kiss on her now-exposed shoulder as walked past her to hang her robes in what he was now thinking of as 'their' bedroom. When he returned to the living area, he saw Hermione thanking the House Elf who had brought their dinner to them and wishing him a Happy Christmas. After much bowing and scraping, the elf left and Hermione turned to face Severus, smiling.  
  
"It's perfect, Severus," she said, looking back at the table. "And not to be terribly unromantic, but I'm starved. Can we eat?"  
  
Snape laughed and moved to the table, pulling out her chair for her and dropping a kiss on her head as she sat. Sitting, he poured them each a glass of white grape juice and lifted his glass in a toast to Hermione.  
  
"To our future," he said.  
  
"And to our past," she finished.  
  
After their dinner of roasted lamb and winter vegetables, they moved to the sofa to start in on a large platter of cookies and a pitcher full of eggnog. Snape poured himself a glass first and took a sip to make sure the elves had left out the alcohol before pouring a glass for Hermione.  
  
"Thank you," she said, taking the glass. "I've taken more potions in the past nine days than I care to count, so I'm hoping to avoid alcohol completely over the holidays. Well, I might have a sip of champagne on New Year's Eve."  
  
Hermione grinned at her husband. He leaned back against the couch cushions, thoughtfully munching on a cookie and watching Hermione out of the corner of his eye.  
  
"What?" she asked.  
  
"I just was thinking that maybe we could start the new year with a little celebration. My parents, your parents, our friends - a LOT of explanations - " he chuckled and took Hermione's hand. "Maybe capped off in a private ceremony at midnight where we renew our vows."  
  
"Severus, are you proposing?" asked Hermione, eyes filling with tears.  
  
"Well, we ARE already married," he said smiling at her and wiping a tear from her cheek. "So I don't think I can propose again. But, after all this time, it would mean a lot to me if we renewed our vows. I - I think I need it, Hermione."  
  
She sat, quietly for a moment, looking at him and the pleading look in his eyes. 'How did I ever believe those eyes were cold,' she mused. This was really happening, he had accepted their situation, despite the fact that they both knew he would never have become a Death Eater if she hadn't set the circle in motion by leaving him seventeen years ago. 'I am forgiven,' she realized. 'We are going to be a family.' Suddenly, she grinned at him and kissed him passionately - until he was breathless and the pleading look had left his coal eyes.  
  
"Let's do it!" she said, throwing her arms around his neck and squeezing. "I would love to! And when I wrote my parents - well, it was hard to explain everything. I'm not sure even Dumbledore made any sense of the whole situation to them, I want to show them our first wedding photos, my old yearbook and everything. Maybe then they can understand and accept - and I know my mother would appreciate seeing us get married. Again. And if it is what you need, too, I would do it tonight, you know that."  
  
Severus just looked at Hermione for a moment as she lay in his arms. So young, he thought. So young, so good, so untouched by evil. He would make sure that she would never have to experience the evils that he had. He squeezed her back and sighed as she responded by turning her face up for a kiss. He complied with her unspoken request.  
  
They kissed for a few moments, just enjoying each other's presence. Suddenly, Hermione broke the kiss and sat back, looking at Snape seriously.  
  
"You know, there's no need to rush this, this time," she said, softly. "It can wait for a few days or until we renew our vows -- hell, Severus, it can wait for a few years if you want it to. I would wait for you."  
  
Severus looked at her earnest face and brought one hand up to caress her face.  
  
"I don't want to wait, Hermione," he replied. "I need you, tonight. You are the only Christmas gift I want."  
  
Then, cookies and festive eggnog forgotten, they were kissing passionately once again and he was cradling her in his arms and easing her gently to the floor in front of the fireplace. Still wrapped in each other and kissing passionately, they slowly began to explore each other through their robes. 'Just like our first time,' he thought, shuddering as she slid her hand over his lower back and down to his backside. A moment of insecurity hit him as he realized the - ahem - parts weren't quite as firm as they were nearly 20 years ago. But, all thoughts left him as she pulled him to rest on top of her and into an even more fiery kiss.  
  
"My favorite blanket," she said into his mouth. "I could stay underneath you forever. It's safe here, Severus."  
  
He moaned into her mouth as she then shifted to grind her hips into his and he responded by roughly nudging her thighs apart and settling in between them. No spells or charms were voiced tonight, as they both began to undress each other slowly. Hermione was nude beneath him as she continued to struggle with the layers of clothing that made up Snape's formal suit. He smiled and stopped her with a gentle hand as he began trailing kisses from her neck to her stomach. Pausing to give her lower abdomen an extra touch and kiss, he muttered: "Hello, baby girl," softly, before dipping his head lower and grinning up at Hermione wickedly. Even though that smile had communicated exactly what he was up to, Hermione found herself gasping as his tongue began to caress her slowly and gently - gradually increasing in passion and pace until she was bucking and shuddering underneath him and gasping his name.  
  
Smiling, he sat up briefly to finish undressing and then lay down next to Hermione to hold her and take possession of her mouth once again. 'Gods,' he thought, 'I haven't smiled this much in years.'  
  
"Feeling all right," he paused to ask mischievously. His hand trailed down her body to rest where he had just lavished kisses. She gasped again against his lips, her breath hot on his face.  
  
"I'm just wonderful and you know it," she replied, feigning irritation. "I see you haven't lost your touch."  
  
That comment drew a smirk from Snape.  
  
"And you still taste incredible," he replied and enjoyed watching her blush.  
  
They began kissing once again and this time, Hermione began a lazy exploration of her husband's body with mouth and hands. Giving him a wicked grin to match his own, she curled her hand around his erection and took him into her mouth. Snape groaned and fought to control the urge to thrust into her. After a few minutes of the intense sensations, he stopped her with a growl.  
  
"Angel, I can't take much more of that and I desperately want to be inside you," he choked out, "You're forgetting how long it has been for me, and just one night with you did not make up for seventeen years of nights without you."  
  
Hermione looked up at her husband and smiled softly, replying: "Well, I guess I need to start making up for lost time."  
  
Moments later Hermione was covered once again in her favorite "blanket" and they were moving together slowly and gently. Unlike their encounter against the dungeon wall, there was no frantic motion, no frustration to release and no fears to calm. Snape lifted his lips from her neck and looked down at her face tenderly - her eyes were closed and her head thrown back with her hair spilling over her breasts and onto the carpet. He sent a silent prayer to whichever deity had brought her back to him before once again capturing her parted lips in a kiss. Many promises were made and romantic pleas were spoken while the two made love beside the fire and the clock stuck midnight.  
  
"Happy Christmas, Hermione," he whispered into her ear as she began to shudder and once again gasp out his name. He soon followed her into ecstasy and nipped her earlobe gently. "Happy Christmas."  
  
"Happy Christmas, love," she sighed.  
  
Some time later, as the fire began to die out, Severus picked his sleeping, young wife up and carried her to the bedroom. Lying her gently down on the bed, he shrugged on his dressing gown and walked to his storage room. Once there, he rummaged around for a moment in the boxes that had accumulated over the last three days until he found what he was looking for.  
  
Suddenly, his 'pathetic box' wasn't nearly as pathetic has he had thought. And suddenly, he couldn't wait for Hermione to open it on Christmas morning. He picked up the box full of much-loved baby items and carried it quietly into their bedroom. He stumbled slightly as he came in the door and swore, waking up Hermione.  
  
"Severus? What is it? Is something wrong?" she said, sitting up. "Lumos!"  
  
'Damn,' Severus thought, 'so much for the Christmas morning surprise.' He smiled at her and looked down at the battered wooden box.  
  
"What is that?" she asked. "Or do I have to wait until tomorrow morning?"  
  
"No. You may open it now," he said nervously. He closed the distance between the door and the bed and sat down, placing the box in Hermione's lap.  
  
She looked questioningly at his nervousness, but opened the box, smiling at him reassuringly. She gasped as she took in the contents. Stuffed unicorns, bears, rattles and a pair of pink booties were carefully packed away on top. She looked up at Snape with tears in her eyes.  
  
"What is this, love?" she asked.  
  
He took a deep breath and began to pull items from the box and nervously examining them with her.  
  
"I bought them over the last seventeen years," he said. "I knew, somehow, that we had gotten pregnant that night in the lake, Hermione. You didn't have to tell me, I just knew. When you left - when you left, I would sometimes console myself by going into Muggle London and having a nice meal and doing a spot of shopping. Usually I would come home with something to put in this box. I don't know what I thought I would do with them, maybe give them away someday when it stopped hurting. I don't know."  
  
"I called it my 'pathetic box,'" he continued. "The only person that knew about it was Dumbledore, and he only found out when you returned last week. I guess it was my way of grieving for the two of you."  
  
"Severus." Hermione didn't know what to say.  
  
"These are my favorite," he said, taking out the footie pajamas and handing her the pink ones from the stack. "Can we bring her home from the Hospital Wing in these?"  
  
He smiled at her as she took the fuzzy pink sleeper from his hands. It was probably the most beautiful pair of footie pajamas she'd ever seen, she thought. She couldn't speak. Hermione was still stunned by the raw emotion and unbelievable pain that was Snape's "pathetic box." She could do no more than nod and stare at the tiny sleepers, booties and toys.  
  
"Hermione?" he said. "Was I right to show you this? Angel?"  
  
Hermione finally looked him in the eye, and the still-fresh pain there caused her to lose control over her tears. She took the box from her lap and pulled Snape to her chest, his face among the sleepers he had treasured so much over the years and her tears in his hair. She took a deep shuddering breath.  
  
"Severus, I will never again question why you were such a bastard while I was in school," she began. "I cannot comprehend the kind of pain you had to have been in over the years, but I can promise you this: I will never, ever leave you again."  
  
Hours later, Snape was sleeping in her arms. She slowly moved out from under him and picked up the contents of the precious box. Placing the box in a place of honor under their tree, she crawled back into bed with her husband and curled up against his lean frame.  
  
And they slept. 


	16. Christmas Day

Christmas Day dawned beautifully. The sun was shining on the snow and reflecting off the frozen edges of the lake, the trees and decorations around Hogwarts were gleaming and sparkling and the light was reflecting beautifully off of her husbands face, mused Hermione. She had awoken when the elves had arrived to place their gifts at the foot of their bed and, after a quick trip to the bathroom for her "morning puke," decided to prepare a private breakfast in their small kitchen. No matter that she couldn't prepare more than cereal from a rather Muggle-looking box and some juice from their wizard's equivalent of a refrigerator - it was the thought that counted.  
  
She stood quietly in the doorway for a few moments, enjoying the relaxed and happy expression on Snape's face. It was an unusual expression for the older version of her husband, she knew. And she was feeling rather pleased with herself at being the cause of it. She set the tray down on the nightstand and sat on the bed next to him.  
  
"Severus, wake up, it's morning. Happy Christmas," she whispered into his ear.  
  
He stirred, looked at her in vague surprise, and stretched. Then he sat and instigated a lazy, lengthy kiss.  
  
"Happy Christmas," he finally replied, smirking to note her breath was a bit shallow. "I think I would like to open my present now, Hermione."  
  
With a grin, he yanked her back onto the bed. Hermione squealed as he pounced her. Quickly, kisses turned to caresses, caresses to urgent touching, and that touching into two bodies moving together, to bliss. Perfect, they both thought in unison.  
  
Some time later, Snape sighed with contentment and reached for his breakfast as Hermione once again felt the need to visit what she was jokingly now calling "the porcelain god." He mused that it had been a very Muggle thing for her to say as he listened for the flush that meant she was done -- for the moment.  
  
"Are you sure you don't need any help, love?" he called, around a mouthful of cereal.  
  
"Positive. I'm starting to get the hang of my morning ritual," she said, exiting the bathroom with a toothbrush hanging out of her mouth. "I can hold my hair back, puke and flush simultaneously now."  
  
"I think that is more information than I really needed, Angel," said Snape, scowling.  
  
"Love me, love our baby - love the details," she said. "Wait until you get to cut the cord and see the afterbirth. I've been doing some reading, I can let you see the pictures -"  
  
"Hermione, I'm eating," he snapped. She grinned at the flash of the old potions master she used to love to hate. His sudden appearance only egged her on.  
  
"They are even wizard's pictures, so they move, and you can see how the cord continues to pulsate after -"  
  
Snape put his cereal bowl down with a thump, sat up and slipped a hand over Hermione's mouth. He caught her eyes with his trademark, icy, vile Professor Snape glare.  
  
"As much as I am enjoying your pregnancy. As much as I am going to love every moment of the next few months and as much as I will treasure our child's birth," he began softly. "I do not believe that I need to hear all the - gory, details during my Christmas breakfast."  
  
"I may have to reconsider my decision to let you move back in if you keep this up," he teased. "I had thought to ask the House Elves to take care of it tomorrow."  
  
Hermione just giggled and returned to the bathroom to put away her toothbrush and rinse. Snape shook his head at her mischievous baiting. Things felt - normal, he mused. Everything felt right.  
  
Snape put on his dressing gown, gathered up his empty juice glass and cereal bowl and headed into the kitchen area, magically cleaning them and then putting them away. He heard Hermione return to their bed and begin her breakfast.  
  
"Shall we open our gifts now, or wait?" he called from the kitchen.  
  
She looked through their bedroom door at him with the enthusiasm of a child. "Now!" she replied.  
  
Laughing, the older wizard sat back on the bed and they began to open their gifts. His parents had sent him books on child rearing, early childhood education and early childhood magical testing in response to his lengthy letter about their new situation. 'I guess they are excited,' he mused.  
  
Hagrid had knitted them both a gift, Snape wasn't sure, but he thought it was an infant stocking cap. A group gift from the professors he wasn't terribly close to came next, a framed picture someone had found of Hermione in her Head Girl robes and badge. He wasn't sure exactly what to think of that particular gift, whether it was a reminder of the crazy circle of time they had lived through - or whether they secretly thought him to be a pedophile or teenage skirt chaser. He shook his head and opened the gift from Hermione. It was a Muggle book on becoming a father packaged with a book about potions for children's illnesses. He smiled at Hermione and set them in a place of pride on his nightstand.  
  
Finally, more silly, fuzzy pajamas from Albus and Minerva for Snape - gifts that earned a quirk of Hermione's eyebrow.  
  
"I'll explain later," he said, grinning and shaking his head again, as she giggled while examining the blue PJs covered in clouds and another set with Muggle Spiderman characters covering it. "It's a long story."  
  
Hermione had gifts of a pregnancy journal from her mother and father along with a gift certificate for a Muggle maternity clothing store. She received the usual candy from Ron and silver picture frame engraved with both the Slytherin and Gryffindor shields from Harry. Snape looked surprised at it, gingerly taking it in his hands as if he expected it to explode. Many more small presents from teachers and students, that called out "welcome home," soon also littered her side of the bed. She had opened the final one and began clearing up the wrappings when Snape tapped her on the arm.  
  
"You missed one," he said. She turned and he handed her a small velvet box.  
  
"But, I thought that last night -" she began. He shook his head and placed the box in her hand. She opened it to find a beautiful emerald and diamond choker and earrings, antique and most likely ridiculously expensive. She turned to Snape in shock.  
  
He just shrugged and smiled. "What is the use of having wealth and a vault at Gringotts stuffed with old jewels from a line of wealthier ancestors, if you can't enjoy them?"  
  
She smiled in return and hugged him tightly in thanks.  
  
"Now," he said. "I think we need to clean up and attempt to make it to the Great Hall at some point today."  
  
Hermione returned then to her wrapping paper mess with a near-ferocity and Snape quickly made himself scarce in the shower. He heard her humming as she entered the bathroom and began to rummage through what looked like a Muggle make-up bag. Suddenly, the world turned blindingly white and Snape felt himself falling into the shower door. It burst open and he collapsed on the cold, stone floor, writhing in pain.  
  
Hermione quickly moved to assist her husband, who, as his vision began to clear, was hit with a startling realization. It was the Dark Mark burning - and burning with a force and a ripping pain that he hadn't felt since the night after the TriWizard tournament when he rejoined Voldemort's ranks. And he could feel the anger and punishing wrath pulsing in his arm once again - as he fought the urge to apparate as it commanded.  
  
He looked up at her frantically to whisper things she needed to know, but he hadn't been ready to tell her. Now, he had no choice. He pulled himself to a sitting position just out of the still-running shower's mist and began to tell her about his second stint as a Death Eater, the one that had begun at the end of her fourth year.  
  
He choked out how he had been violently punished the night of the tournament for his defection to Dumbledore's side and interference in Voldemort's schemes, before being allowed to have minimal involvement in the Death Eaters again. He had nearly died from the torture Voldemort had insisted he endure as an "assurance" of his renewed loyalty and that he would never betray him again. It had taken nearly a month in the Hospital Wing to recover completely - only stumbling to the Great Hall for the Leaving Feast and other "appearances" in front of the students, he explained, panting with the effort.  
  
"This time," he stammered out softly, looking at Hermione with wild eyes. "This time I have more to lose and I also have so much more to be punished for. I'm going to die for my part in attempting to stop Voldemort. I am so sorry, Hermione. But he will get to me, and he will kill me. After everything, I am going to leave our daughter fatherless and you a widow."  
  
"Severus," Hermione said, softly, tears streaming down her cheeks at her husbands pain - past and present. "It will be all right, I promise. We'll find a way to fix this."  
  
Haunted eyes met her teary ones as he slowly shook his head.  
  
"There is no 'fix' this time, Hermione. This time he's going to kill me."  
  
Their gaze held madly as he clutched his forearm for several more painful and silent moments, before he mercifully passed out. 


	17. Time for potions

Snape awoke the next day in the Hospital Wing alone and feeling like Hagrid had bested him in a fist fight. He gingerly sat up and, finding a glass of water on the nightstand, drank it in one gulp. He glanced around the room and was grateful that no students were in residence that morning. But, he was disheartened to confirm that Hermione was no where to be found. Looking disdainfully at the Mark still burning black on his forearm, he allowed himself a dark scowl.  
  
'So much for wanting me in your life, Hermione,' he thought. 'The first sign of a problem and she runs away. Of course, this is one hell of a problem.'  
  
Various possible reasons for his Mark burning swirled in his still-foggy mind alongside images of Hermione and their daughter alone and free of him and his evil life. He groaned and lay down on his stomach, burying his head in his arms. In a very un-Snapelike gesture, he pulled the pillow over his head and buried his face into the mattress.  
  
That was how Hermione found him an hour later.  
  
"Come, now, Severus," she cheerfully trilled. "Being in the Hospital Wing isn't all *that* bad."  
  
She sat on the bed, snatched the pillow away and began pouring a light green potion into his now-empty water glass. He turned his head slightly and peeked up at her with one eye warily.  
  
"What are you doing here?" he hissed.  
  
She looked at him strangely for a moment, before gesturing for him to sit up. He complied, looking rather like a sullen child, she mused, grinning. 'I must be getting punchy from lack of sleep,' she decided. 'The situation is serious, but he looks damned adorable.' She shook off her mental wanderings and chalked them up to her hormones. Handing him the glass full of potion, she put on a straight face and said seriously:  
  
"This should counteract the drive to apparate, if your Mark is activated again," she said, as he sniffed the unfamiliar potion. "It's a combination of a potion that counteracts the one used to assist witches having difficulty learning to apparate and a targeted sleeping draught to numb your arm. Harry and I spent most of last night testing variations of it."  
  
Snape stopped mid-sip to look at Hermione questioningly. His quirked eyebrow plainly asked the question: 'Harry?'  
  
"Just drink the damned potion, Severus," she snapped, tiredly. "I've been up for more than 24 hours, I'm nauseous, hungry as hell, exhausted and I would like to eat and go to bed at some point today -- so Harry, Ron and I can start looking for a charm or potion to remove the Mark as soon as possible."  
  
Snape gulped the glass of potion, noticing she had added mint to the combination.  
  
"It doesn't taste bad for an experimental potion," he said, smirking. "Thanks."  
  
He set the glass down on the nightstand and carefully, cautiously, took her hands in his. He looked up at her, afraid of her reaction to the Death Eater's touch. He saw nothing out of the ordinary in her eyes - aside from worry and exhaustion. He reached up to smooth a few wild curls back from her face as she dipped to kiss him gently. Relief flooded him as she nestled against his chest.  
  
"The mint wasn't for you," she admitted, ruefully. "The ingredients we were working with weren't toxic, but the fumes and smells were killing me. I spent more time last night in the loo with my porcelain friend that I did in the lab. I figured out early on how to blend spearmint leaves in with the wormwood in the variants of the sleeping draught portion, in order to survive the night."  
  
She sighed and snuggled closer, swinging her feet onto his narrow bed and lying down fully. She raised her head to briefly brush his Adam's Apple with her lips then returned it to the comfort of his chest. Snape, for his part, was speechless at the lengths his pregnant wife had gone to in order to help him.  
  
"Some Christmas, eh?" he said, rather stupidly.  
  
"Well, Christmas Eve was good," she said. "Did I tell you how much I loved the box full of baby things, Severus? I can't even put into words how incredibly special --"  
  
He stopped her with a brusque: "I'm glad."  
  
She nodded, understanding the wound that had produced the contents of that box was still raw - may always be raw for him. She toyed nervously with the bedding before she spoke again.  
  
"There has to be a way to remove the Dark Mark, Severus. He cannot have you. I won't let him," she said, stifling a yawn. "If it takes years, I will find a way to remove it. And we'll just have to treat the effects until we have a cure."  
  
Snape sighed.  
  
"I've tried it all, Hermione. Nothing short of cutting off my arm will free me from it. And I think I rather need both of my hands as a potions master and teacher," he said.  
  
She sighed, in turn, but smiled slightly at his words, her fingers caressing his collarbone.  
  
"Not to mention that I am rather fond of those hands, myself," she sleepily teased.  
  
Snape smiled and silence fell as he began to soothingly stroke her hair.  
  
"Severus?" came the mumbled question.  
  
"Yes, love."  
  
"You said you had tried everything - but you hadn't created a potion like the one we did last night, had you?" she murmured.  
  
"No, I hadn't thought of treating the individual symptoms of the Mark, Hermione."  
  
"Well, then, maybe since I have a different perspective -- perhaps I still have a chance at developing a cure."  
  
"Perhaps you do, Angel."  
  
The motion of her fingers on his neck and collarbone slowed and then stopped as she began to succumb to sleep. Softly, Snape whispered:  
  
"Thank you for trying, Hermione. I love you."  
  
And moments later, the sleeping draught portion of the potion kicked in and he slept. 


	18. Time for truces

The next time Snape awoke, alone in the Hospital Wing, he felt rested and content. The Mark had returned to its dormant state and the potion seemed to be doing its job. He sat up and found his clothes draped over a nearby chair. He was halfway out of the horrible hospital gown and partially into his trousers when Poppy came out of her office and began to bellow at him.  
  
"Exactly where do you think you are going?" she snapped. "I don't seem to remember telling you that you could leave, Snape."  
  
She stalked to him and smirked at his feeble attempts to yank up his trousers and cover his bare backside.  
  
"Poppy," he began, smoothly. "I am fine. I've lived through the activation of the Dark Mark before. It's just the first time I've been forced to resist the call. I'm fine. Let me go find my wife, now, before she drives herself into exhaustion attempting to cure me, please?"  
  
She shook her head at him but helped him into his clothing. Summoning a tray of sandwiches and leftover Christmas cake, she shoved him backwards onto the bed and ordered him to eat before he left the wing. He complied and munched hungrily while she hovered around him, checking his pulse and waving her wand over his chest and arm - and surprisingly, she gave his hair a quick brushing. He looked at her startled.  
  
"You look like hell, Severus. Stubble, red eyes, pale - at least you could comb your hair for your wife," she said, smugly. "I didn't believe you would think of it before you left."  
  
She paused, trying to decide if it were safe to tease the younger man. He had always been rather serious and mysterious, even in school, she thought. But he used to smile and joke. The man he had grown into was sullen and prone to fits of temper when provoked - but she missed the young man he had been and she couldn't resist the urge.  
  
"I'd brush my teeth before you leave, as well," she said, gesturing to the bath and grinning. "I have no doubt in my mind exactly what you and Hermione will be doing the moment you reappear in the lab, so I think it is my duty to not send you there with dragon's breath. She's nauseous enough as it is, my dear boy."  
  
Snape began to bristle at her cheek and reply with a blazing remark, but thought better of it. 'After all,' he mused. 'She's probably right - both about my breath and about what I'll shortly be doing.' He shifted his robes to cover the embarrassing bulge that had arrived in his trousers at her implications and grinned at her instead.  
  
"Where did you say the toothbrush is, Poppy?"  
  
Some time later, Snape arrived in the potions classroom to find Harry and Ron sitting at their usual desk and pouring over stacks of books - parchment and notebooks scattered on the desk behind them and on the floor. Several smaller cauldrons were bubbling in a corner and ingredients were neatly laid out on yet another work table. Hermione wasn't there; he rather hoped she had gone back to her quarters to sleep. He watched the two seventh-years for some time with curiosity from the doorway; suddenly Harry slammed a large book shut and then tossed it on the stone floor with a frustrated bang.  
  
"We're never going to find anything," he said. "Dammit, why did Hermione have to fall in love with that stupid git. She isn't going to let any of us rest until that Mark is gone, you know that don't you, Ron?"  
  
Ron nodded, blearily trying to focus on the page in front of him.  
  
"Harry, this isn't much fun, but you heard her. She thinks it's her fault he joined up with Voldemort in the first place," he said, closing the massive book and rubbing his eyes. "If anything happens to him, she'll never forgive herself."  
  
"So, as much as it pains us, we have to help *Snape,*" Ron finished. "Brilliant, just bloody brilliant. He makes the mistake and the three of us are paying."  
  
"I think Snape has paid more than we will ever know, Ron," said Harry, contemplatively. "I suspect he has been through a lot in the years he was a spy. When we were both injured at Halloween, he acted - well, it was almost as if it were just the normal course of things to be hurt so badly. As if it was normal for him."  
  
Both boys shuddered at the thought. Then, Harry put his head down on his arms and his muffled, exasperated voice muttered:  
  
"She couldn't have married Remus or Flitwick, oh no, it had to be the complicated one. The nasty one. 'Bastard Snape.' The one who hates us and positively loves making our lives miserable," Harry said. "And you know what is worse? I can't believe I'm actually worried about the greasy git. The bastard has me worried about his ass."  
  
"I know," said Ron. "How the hell did he become someone we're supposed to bloody care about? After all this time hating the bat, we're somehow supposed to - like him? After all the shit he's pulled on us?"  
  
Snape smirked and quietly slipped behind the sleepy pair.  
  
"Perhaps, Mr. Potter, Mr. Weasley, if you had spent less time attempting to get yourselves and my wife killed over the past few years - I wouldn't have been forced to follow your escapades so closely," hissed Snape, in his best, threatening voice. Both boys sat straight up in their chairs, wide- eyed. "I believe that most of my punishments were rather - lenient actually, in deference to how the younger version of my wife would feel. Perhaps I should make restitutions now. We could start with the incident in the Shrieking Shack your third year --"  
  
Harry and Ron looked at each other out of the corners of their eyes in terror. Snape, in the meantime, was fighting the urge to laugh.  
  
"You must understand now, children, that I had much to lose if one of your foolish adventures had injured or killed Hermione," he continued, harshly. "And what I would have done to you, had she come to harm."  
  
They continued to sit stock still and stare straight ahead, not wishing to provoke the dark man looming over their heads. Suddenly, a strong hand landed on each shoulder and they heard Snape laughing.  
  
Wait -- Laughing?  
  
"I'm sorry, boys, I could not resist," he said, chuckling and giving each shoulder a short squeeze. Snape walked around the desk to sit in front of them and their mess of research. He looked at them without malice and casually picked up one of their piles of notes. After a moment's uncomfortable silence, Snape spoke again.  
  
"I want to thank both of you," he began, in a quiet voice usually reserved for Hermione. "For taking care of my wife while I was in the Hospital Wing. And for helping her with the potion she created. It has helped me a great deal."  
  
Ron and Harry sat with their mouths open, just staring at Snape.  
  
"Do shut your mouths," Snape said. "You look like a pair of hungry fish staring at me."  
  
They complied out of habit but continued to stare in disbelief.  
  
"Where is Professor Snape and what have you done with him?" Harry lamely joked, once he had found his voice.  
  
Snape smirked.  
  
"Some day, Mr. Potter, you will fall hopelessly in love with some very unlucky girl who I sincerely hope has much patience with your Quidditch obsession," he said with a hint of the old Snape viciousness. Ron fought the urge to snicker as Harry fought the urge to cower. "And let me assure you, that when that ever-so-patient woman appears in your life - you will do anything to make sure she stays."  
  
"And I hope to Merlin that she doesn't disappear for seventeen years like Hermione did," Snape continued. "But if she does leave, I promise you that you will find your inner 'Bastard Potter' in your unhappiness. So, before you joke about the fact that I was slightly unpleasant before Hermione's reappearance in my life, you should consider the reason that I became 'vile Professor Snape.'"  
  
'Slightly unpleasant,' Harry thought, fighting the intense desire to laugh. 'He thinks he was *slightly unpleasant?*'  
  
Ron and Harry exchanged quick, amused glances. And, throwing Gryffindor's chances at winning the House Cup for at least the next decade, they both broke into nervous and relieved laughter. Snape sat watching them with a rather irritated look on his face, but with mirth in his dark eyes.  
  
"Now, where are you in your research," he asked, once they had caught their breath. "Tell me where you are and you may leave, you two look like you need some sleep."  
  
The three men in Hermione's life were bent over Harry's notes on Mandrake juice and the Imperious Curse and talking amiably about the possibilities of its use on the Mark an hour later when Headmaster Dumbledore entered the classroom.  
  
"I do believe that the world will be ending soon," he said, eyes dancing in their usual amused twinkle. "I never thought I would see the three of you enjoying each other's company."  
  
"We are *not* enjoying each other's company," said Harry, in his best Snapelike voice. Ron and Snape exchanged amused glances before Snape rolled his eyes. "We are *working,* Headmaster."  
  
Dumbledore chuckled and joined them, glancing at the notes Harry had handed him.  
  
"Promising, very promising," he said. "Excellent work, Harry. Now, I believe it is time for you two boys to eat and get some sleep. And Severus, I believe your wife is waiting for you in your quarters."  
  
Snape blushed, remembering his earlier plans for his wife when he returned home. Rising, he nodded at the trio who were suddenly looking at him with mischief. He began walking to the door of the classroom, but stopped halfway there to turn in a swirl of billowing robes when he heard three distinct giggles.  
  
He glared until the three fell silent.  
  
"As amusing as it may be that 'vile Professor Snape' suddenly has a sex life," he said, liberal amounts of venom snaking through his words. "I might remind you, Mr. Potter and Mr. Weasley - that the woman I will be making love to tonight is *your* best friend."  
  
Harry and Ron's faces went from mirth to complete disgust in less than a second. Harry's nose wrinkled and he closed his eyes against the mental picture of his professor with his pretty, young friend. Ron visibly turned green and looked like he was seconds away from gagging. It was a vision Snape knew he would treasure and carry to his grave. However, he just couldn't resist one last dig.  
  
"In fact, I seem to recall one very *interesting* evening that involved that particular desk," he sneered. Both students jumped up from their seats as though burned as Dumbledore strained to control his laughter - tears streaming from his eyes. "But, you'll have to ask Hermione about that - I was a bit too - shall we say, tied up to recall much about it?"  
  
And for the third time that month, Ron Weasley passed out. As Harry and Dumbledore set about reviving him, they heard a rather evil chuckle in the hallway as Snape headed to his quarters and his wife. 


	19. Wedding day

The next few days passed in a whirlwind for Hermione and Snape. Her things had been moved back into their dungeon quarters and they spent time organizing and setting things to rights. The crusty bachelor left over in Snape found it very difficult to simply turn over control of his space to his wife - although he admitted she had a much better sense for decorating than he had. And the few spats they had over the allocation of territory had led to rather rousing romps in their new, second-floor bedroom, so he wasn't complaining *that* much. Almost overnight, their quarters had become homey and comfortable - soft burgundies and burnished golds mixing with tarnished silvers and forest greens against a backdrop of parchment-colored walls.  
  
It was beautiful and comfortable, he mused, the morning of New Year's Eve. He snuck a glance at Hermione as she sat at their dining table, breakfast ignored, and working on the puzzle that is his Dark Mark. Mornings and late nights were their time alone together, and so far, the castle's population had respected their unspoken wish for privacy. Afternoons were now spent with Harry, Ron and Dumbledore in the potions classroom, scouring ancient and new texts, testing new combinations and debating various theories of charms, potions and the Dark Arts. Harry, he had quickly come to realize, was very well-versed in the Dark Arts - and not just the lame "defense" of it that Hogwarts currently taught. Ron and Hermione were equally matched in their knowledge of charms and this led to several lively discussions of the spell that had surely activated the Dark Mark in the first place. He and Dumbledore spent most of their time bent over cauldrons and preparing ingredient after ingredient.  
  
Hermione was itching to try her hand at brewing, but he had put his foot down about her breathing the noxious fumes while pregnant. That had led to a screaming fight which had then led to another late night escapade on Harry and Ron's desk, he recalled with a smile. 'But, I think I'll keep that revelation to myself,' he mused. 'I would hate to kill one of Hermione's best friends with the details.'  
  
The fire popped and drew him out of his mental wanderings. He glanced at the clock on the mantle and cleared his throat.  
  
"Hermione, love, it's time to meet our parents. The Hogwarts Express should be here in 20 minutes," he said, standing. "Ready?"  
  
Hermione stretched and put down her quill. She stood and flicked her wand over the breakfast dishes and her work, sending them flying neatly to their places. With a final glance around the room, she walked to Snape, who was holding her winter cloak up for her. He turned her and fastened her cloak as if she were a child. Then, taking her chin in his hand, he brought her mouth to meet his for a long, gentle kiss.  
  
"We might not get much time together over the next few days," he said, in explanation. "Unless you've gotten over your distaste for having sex in the room next to my parents."  
  
"I think I know some silencing spells that might do the trick," she replied, smiling. "Besides, I asked Dumbledore to put our families up in the main part of the castle. They aren't actually staying with us."  
  
"Thank Merlin," he said, hugging her. "Having to explain to your parents why a 40-year-old man who was your teacher until three months ago, is suddenly your husband and the father of your child is going to be difficult enough without wondering if they can hear us."  
  
He paused, looking mischievous. "And I know how much you like to scream, love."  
  
She swatted at him playfully as they left their rooms and made their way to the main doors.  
  
"Let the torture begin," Snape said, feigning merriment.  
  
"Let me remind you that this was *your* idea," she said.  
  
"Oh - That's right," he said, sheepishly.  
  
  
  
Several hours later, everyone's curiosity over the new-old couple was satisfied. Snape's parents were overjoyed to see her again and quickly accepted her back into the family. Hermione's mother and father had even marginally come around. At least, they had stopped glaring at Snape every time he looked at, touched or kissed their daughter. Old pictures had been passed around, the baby clothes and toys Snape gave her dutifully examined - sans an explanation of their origin, thankfully -- and Hermione's still- flat tummy had been patted by all, when a House Elf appeared to lead the group to the Great Hall and a late dinner.  
  
The Great Hall's Christmas decorations had been stripped and a mass of flowers and candles replaced them. Hundreds of white candles danced underneath the starry sky and the floor was strewn with white rose petals beneath their feet. Giant topiaries of ivy stood in place of the Christmas trees and what looked like a garden of white roses covered the platform that the Head Table generally sat upon. The students had apparently been ushered out and to their Common Rooms to continue their New Year's celebrations, so it was empty and silent except for the groups shocked gasps and the faint sound of Pachelbel Canon playing softly in the background. The Snape and Granger families looked around in awe as Hermione and Snape looked for the culprits - finding them seated at the smaller round table, dressed in elegant white and gold, situated in the center of the room.  
  
"Headmaster, Ron, Harry," nodded Snape as he pulled out chairs for his mother and Hermione. "I suppose this overabundance of flowers and blazing candles is your doing?"  
  
Hermione swatted at his arm. She smiled at her two best friends and Headmaster, who were accompanied by Ginny Weasley, Poppy Pomfrey and Professor McGonagall.  
  
"I think it is lovely," she said. "Thank you all."  
  
"What is the occasion?" said Mrs. Snape, looking at her bemused son. "Surely, you didn't go to all this trouble just for us?"  
  
Hermione looked at Snape expectantly. He smiled, took her hand and turned to look at their family and closest friends around the table.  
  
"When Hermione returned after such a long absence, it was very difficult for me to adjust to being married yet again," he said. "Actually, difficult is an understatement considering the circumstances. So, I asked Hermione to renew our vows with me tonight at midnight to help me with the transition. She has graciously accepted my offer to become Hermione Snape one more time."  
  
Hermione's mother's eyes filled with tears. She reached across the table and squeezed Snape's hand. He looked rather uncomfortable, but returned the gesture with a wary look in his eyes. 'An hour ago, she was shooting daggers at me with her eyes when I dared to put my hand on Hermione's knee,' he thought. He shook off his uncharitable thoughts.  
  
"That is why we asked you to be here tonight," he continued. "We knew it would be important for our families to witness our second wedding, as well as our friends."  
  
"In light of this announcement, I would like to propose a toast," interjected Dumbledore. "To family, friends and to true love!"  
  
"To true love!" the assembled party chanted, clinking glasses happily. Only Snape caught the slightly sick, gagged expression on Ron's face before he chugged his champagne. He chuckled softly as he saw Ginny elbowing her brother in the ribs.  
  
The House Elves had outdone themselves and when the small feast appeared suddenly on the table, even the experienced witches and wizards had to gasp. Caviar, lobster ravioli with vanilla essence, Filet Mignon stuffed with mushroom Brie, and a filet of beef renderloin with crab cakes appeared on the plates with a variety of vegetables. A carafe of white grape juice had settled in between Snape and Hermione and more bottles of champagne were scattered over the table.  
  
Hermione immediately began to tuck in, her aggressive approach to the meal drawing more than a few amused glances from her husband and guests. Lively discussion accompanied their meal - everyone being careful not to mention the potential problems with Voldemort or Snape's Dark Mark around the sets of parents. The party lingered around the table, most of the guests taking seconds - but Snape could have sworn Hermione had thirds. Then the plates were cleared and a traditional wedding cake - beautifully simple with two round tiers - appeared in the place of the centerpiece. Despite the groans and protests that they were far too full to even contemplate eating any dessert, once Hermione and Snape stood to cut the cake with their wands, the slices were quickly consumed. The pleasant conversation continued as the party nursed drinks and coffee for another hour.  
  
"I believe that it is nearing midnight," said Dumbledore, eye twinkling more than Snape had seen before. "Would our bride and groom like to have a few moments alone before we begin the renewal of their vows?"  
  
Snape nodded and led his "bride" to the platform and amongst the flowers as their guests began to mill around in anticipation. He pulled Hermione behind a large topiary and kissed her soundly for several minutes, gently exploring her mouth with his tongue while his hands wandered slightly and made promises for the night to come. As he broke the kiss, he saw that she looked happy, but very tired. He smiled at her and decided to tease:  
  
"How's my old lady?" he said, grinning evilly. "Are you feeling up to all this?"  
  
Hermione didn't know whether to adore or hate him at that moment. As his hand dropped to caress her sensitive breast through her robes, however, she decided to adore him. She returned his evil grin and stood on tiptoe to whisper seductively in his ear:  
  
"Well enough to break your nose if you call me that again, dearest," she said, then nipped at the lobe.  
  
Moments later, they were standing in the roses in front of Dumbledore, surrounded by their family and friends. Hermione and Severus only had eyes for each other as they spoke vows that were vastly different from those at their original ceremony. Before, they had promised to love, honor, cherish and obey. Today, after all that had happened, they promised to be loyal, true, honest and trusting in their marriage, as well as an added vow of helping each other as they traveled down the road of parenthood. Not quite as romantic, Snape mused, but perfect for their lives as they now were.  
  
Hermione and Snape were pronounced husband and wife yet again. Snape leaned down to kiss his young, rather delicate looking wife with a tenderness that made even Harry sniff. In his kiss, he told her that the seventeen years he spent alone were worth every moment, as long as he had her now. He told her how much he loved her and how much he worshipped the baby she was carrying. And he thanked her for not deserting him when the Dark Mark reappeared to disrupt their lives. Breaking the kiss after a minute, Hermione answered him with her eyes and one simple message breathed onto his cheek:  
  
"I love you. I always will, Severus."  
  
He knew it was true. And he knew that tomorrow the puzzle of the Dark Mark would take prominence in their lives again, that they would fall yet again into the routines inherent in being married and that life would go back to normal as they awaited their child. But tonight, she was his bride and he planned to make the rest of the night perfect. After the round of kisses and hugs that followed their vows, he picked her up and romantically swept her away to their home in the dungeons, to claim his bride once again as his own. 


	20. January

The month of January passed quickly for Hermione and Snape. The nursery was completed far ahead of schedule, so - as Hermione put it - she could decorate it before she got "huge and miserable." The students returned and classes began once again. Once again, Snape found himself frustratingly surrounded by idiots that could not seem to make a potion correctly or prevent the regular melting of cauldrons. Hermione had returned to classes at Oxford, set to complete her degree in Advanced Transfiguration in June. Her robes had begun to tighten and the small roundness of her pregnancy was becoming obvious. And the work continued on Snape's Dark Mark almost every evening in the potions classroom.  
  
Twice, Snape's Dark Mark had burned, calling him. And twice, the quick response of Hermione had prevented his apparition and dulled the pain. Shortly after the renewal of their vows, she had developed both a screening spell that allowed her to assist with the brewing - without inhaling the noxious fumes; and she had discovered a new pain-relieving potion to help him survive the calls, which were becoming more brutal each time.  
  
So, tonight, when their dinner at the Head Table was interrupted by Snape's latest call, they were prepared. Quickly moving to their quarters, Harry and Ron in tow in case the potions failed and he needed restrained, potions were administered in haste. The four unlikely friends and allies then settled in around the Snape's fireplace, on edge, watching the flames and attempting to make conversation while they waited to see if the potions would work yet again.  
  
"You know, Hermione, I'll be very glad when you figure out how to remove that Mark," began Ron, as he headed to their kitchen to rustle up cookies and milk for all. "This 'Snape-sitting' is starting to cut into my social life."  
  
Ron poked his head out of the kitchen and looked at Snape; waiting for the glare and sharp rebuttal he knew would come. It didn't, instead, Snape replied seriously.  
  
"Perhaps, Ron, my Mark has been a positive thing in your life," Snape said, carefully, staring into the fire. "You are spending more time in research, less time chasing girls and reading Quidditch magazines - and you are developing your mind and your skills as a wizard. Maybe there is a part of me that should be thankful it returned."  
  
The three young people turned to stare at Snape and his contemplative comments. In the course of the last month and a half, they had developed a strange friendship. Harry and Ron had actually become comfortable with their potions master. They began to recognize that many of his biting comments and jibes were a result of his sharp wit and dark sense of humor. In the classroom while they were working on his cure together, insults, jibes and jokes flew between Ron and Snape - most likely as a mask for the serious task at hand.  
  
In the classroom during potions, however, their closeness made things a bit awkward. Snape was doing his best to remain the hated and feared evil Professor Snape, although, as Ron had so eloquently put it one evening, it was hard to stay so evil when you were regularly "getting shagged." Ron had received a smack on the back of his head from the potions master for that lovely comment, and a promise that he would give Ron more details than he could handle if he didn't cut it out. As the relationship had changed between Ron, Harry and Snape, the teacher found he had to occasionally bite back an acerbic jibe in class - usually aimed at Ron and his manhood; while the boys found themselves struggling not to laugh when their teacher's dark wit was turned on another classmate. The snickers that escaped had lost Gryffindor points on a regular basis. 'Who would have ever guessed,' thought Harry, 'that *Snape* was funny.'  
  
"Of course," Snape finished, living up to their new expectations. "I suppose I should just be grateful that I may never again have to walk in on your clumsy attempts at seduction in a darkened classroom after curfew. It is rather comforting to know your mind is occupied with something besides what resides in your trousers and Quidditch."  
  
Ron laughed, blushing, Harry hooted and Hermione moved to sit on Snape's lap, swatting his arm in the process. The group settled in, chatting over their cookies and milk, as Snape gradually began to relax as a result of the potions and Hermione's soft hand in his hair. After a few minutes, the fire before them turned green - a signal that someone was wishing to talk to Hermione or Snape.  
  
"Albus," sighed Snape. "He's in London, how did he realize I had been called? I swear there is nothing that man doesn't know. It's downright creepy sometimes."  
  
"That's rich, the bat thinks something is creepy," jabbed Ron, earning a glare from Hermione and Snape. "Oooh, unison evil eye from the potions master and his mistress."  
  
Snape smirked and turned to the fire, calling "Apperio." A face slowly came into focus in the flames, and it wasn't the twinkling, kind countenance of their Headmaster and friend.  
  
It was Lucius Malfoy.  
  
"Snape, old man!" he began with a feral grin, looking at Snape and Hermione curled up in the armchair. His nose wrinkled in disgust as his gaze traveled over Hermione's curves and then back to Snape's face. "I see you are still playing with your mudblood child-bride. Good fuck, is she? Well, she must be for you to take her back after she deserted you for so many years."  
  
Snape lifted Hermione from his lap and, standing, moved to a position in front of the fire.  
  
"You don't have to protect her; I'm not coming through with my wand blazing. I don't kill mudbloods any longer; I find they just aren't worth the energy I expend. That's what the Death Eaters are for," he said, still grinning. "Which is why I am talking to you, my dear brother of the dark: Why haven't you answered the summons? We've had a few interesting meetings without your witty and joyful presence lately."  
  
Malfoy pouted. "We miss you. Besides, you are the big hero, nowadays. So you should come and revel in your newfound glory, old man."  
  
Hermione shuddered and moved to stand behind Snape, placing her hand gently on his back for reassurance. He leaned back into her touch slightly in thanks.  
  
"What are you talking about Malfoy? Voldemort is gone, if you recall, I was one of the people that killed him," spat Snape. "I don't believe I am welcome at any Death Eater meetings."  
  
"Besides," Snape continued, with a speech he had rehearsed just for a conversation like this. "I thought the Mark was burning with some sort of random magic or phantom pains. Only Voldemort was able to activate the Mark to call us. With him gone, why would I suspect that there was a legitimate 'summons?' I've been taking a powerful sleeping draught and just going to bed each time. Why would I answer a call from a dead man?"  
  
Malfoy looked at Snape for a moment before answering. The silence was filled with --- evil and was threatening.  
  
"A dead man? Why, Snape, I consider that a right insult. I am alive and well." Malfoy paused to let the knowledge sink in. "*I* summoned you, Snape. With Voldemort gone, I have assumed leadership of the Death Eaters - and I plan to see their rise to power through, unlike Voldemort. I should thank you for getting rid of him for me. He was distracted from our task by Potter and by vengeance. He forgot about the mudbloods, he forgot about our need for change in the Ministry, he forgot about the poor education our pureblood children are receiving at Hogwarts and he forgot that the most important thing is to bring the pureblood families back into power - the power that is their right by birth."  
  
Malfoy stopped and fixed Snape with an icy glare.  
  
"I suppose we can let you keep your mudblood plaything, Snape," he hissed. "Just don't let that mongrel, half-breed she's carrying in my sight."  
  
At that comment, Snape was brought out of his stunned silence.  
  
"Malfoy, if you ever lay a hand on my wife or daughter, I will make you wish your pureblood ass had never been born," he spat. "I want nothing to do with your new regime and I want nothing to do with you."  
  
Malfoy smiled and his voice dropped to an icy trickle of sound.  
  
"You have no choice, old man. You took the Mark willingly. The Mark is now mine," he whispered. "*You* are now mine, Severus."  
  
  
  
  
  
TBC  
  
Author's note: I have been given so many great prompts, ideas and suggestions in the course of writing this fic that I decided to take an idea for the Dark Mark I had planned to use for another story - and just incorporate it into this one. I think that adds at least another 10 chapters (according to my current outline) to the piece. Less lemons, more angst and action.  
  
And again, thanks for the reviews - especially the ones where you've called to my attention any consistency errors or questions you might have, or you have been specific in comments about dialogue, plot development, etc. It's my first attempt at fiction and I feel a bit lost and the comments are appreciated. 


	21. February

Days for Hermione and Snape had now become a muddle of barely-controlled panic and a frantic attempt to shut down the Mark. Dumbledore released Harry and Ron from their senior projects and instead offered them credit for their work on the Mark instead. Seeing the terror in Hermione's eyes and the worry in her husband's, they picked up the pace on their research - skipping out on a Hogsmeade weekend, ditching the Valentine's Dance committee and frequently "forgetting" to go to Divination. 'If she's truly got the Inner Eye, she'll understand this is more important,' thought Harry, one afternoon as he bent over his notes in the library.  
  
Several nights a week their experiments kept the foursome up far past curfew, occasionally joined by Dumbledore. After a few nights spent alone waiting in Harry's bed, Ginny finally found her way to the dungeons and was brought into the circle. She quickly volunteered her mother's talents and ideas for healing wounds and removing scars to the cause, and soon Molly Weasley began apparating to Hogsmeade several times a week and making the hike to Hogwarts. Discussions in the newly-expanded group regarding the power of the Mark to force Severus to apparate against his will led to the analysis of lycanthropy and how the moon forces werewolves to change. The next evening, Dumbledore entered the potions classroom with a large grin and a werewolf in tow. After many hugs and a rather stiff, but conciliatory handshake from Snape, Remus Lupin was brought up to speed on their research and their plans.  
  
"If we manage to neutralize the Mark with a potion, perhaps we can figure out how to transmute it into an aerosol form," suggested Ginny late one evening near the end of February.  
  
"Good idea, Ginny," said Molly. "Once we manage to perfect this potion, we can then use it in the air to remove other Marks without their owner's consent. If Malfoy can't organize his minions through the Mark, it will make gaining power once again that much more difficult."  
  
Snape sighed and looked over at the cauldron that held their most promising potion to date. It had been nearly a month since Malfoy had begun taunting Snape with almost daily activations of his Mark. The subject of their concern was sitting limply at his desk, holding Hermione on his lap and protectively covering her expanding stomach with his hand. His face was creased with pain and his skin was deathly white - the preventative potions were beginning to lose their effectiveness and Malfoy's torture was becoming more brutal by the day. He was an exhausted and nearly beaten man.  
  
"Either way, I have to go the next time he summons me," said Snape. "I have to be able to find out who is back so we can dose them with the potion - if it works. And if I try to keep resisting his call, I have no doubt he will manage to kill me via it."  
  
Molly Weasley rose and walked to the couple. She put her hand on Snape's shoulder and squeezed.  
  
"It will work, Severus. Maybe not this batch, but eventually, we will hit on the right combination and it will work," she said. "So you get yourself prepared, get to a meeting, get us our names and let's get rid of these bastards once and for all!"  
  
"Yes, ma'am!" said Snape, wearily attempting a grin.  
  
"You don't want to see that one bloody apeshit, Snape," interjected Ron. "Trust me. I've seen it plenty of times."  
  
"And you will see it again, young man, if you don't watch your language," Molly screeched, her voice echoing on the stone walls as she crossed over to her son and smacked him on the back of the head. "Ronald Weasley! Honestly!"  
  
"Ron, you just *had* to make her mad," piped up the normally-quiet Lupin. "Great job."  
  
The group turned to look at the red-faced Weasley boy and began to chuckle collectively. Tension was released as they left chuckle far behind and descended into full-blown chortles and guffaws. So, that evening at least, it was laughter that ended their work session and laughter that followed Hermione and Snape down the corridor to their quarters.  
  
Once inside, Hermione led Snape to their bedroom and he stood like a perfectly-mannered child as she undressed him and helped him into his pajamas. Slipping into her nightgown, she pulled him into bed with her and listened to his sigh of relief as he hit the cool sheets. They curled up in a secure ball in the center of the bed and lay for several moments - just listening to each other breathe. Snape's hand once again reached for Hermione's belly.  
  
"I would almost swear I felt the baby move today," said Hermione. "You'll be able to feel it soon."  
  
She snuggled into him more and began to gently caress his scalp and face, smiling as she felt the rest of his body beginning to react to her. Her hand dropped beneath the sheets to caress him further and she enjoyed hearing his startled gasp.  
  
"It's been a long time, Severus," she whispered. "Almost three weeks."  
  
Snape shifted so he could kiss her gently.  
  
"*Only* three weeks," he said. "Remember, I'm the man who waited nearly seventeen years."  
  
"That's right," she said, rolling them so she could straddle him and stripping off her nightgown. She leaned down to kiss him as they began to slowly rock against each other. She reached to the nightstand and with a flick of her wand, removed his pajamas. She smiled when she felt his skin touch hers. "I think I have some time to make up for."  
  
"Hermione, I - " he began.  
  
"Shhhh - You just lie there and let me take care of all the work for once. You don't always have to try to be some perfect lover that is straight out of a romance novel, you know," she said, rubbing his chest and beginning to nibble on his ear. It was difficult for him to relinquish control, Hermione knew, and she was worried he would say no.  
  
Instead, he sighed happily and nodded, dropping his hands to rest on her thighs and turning over everything to her. He closed his eyes and let her touch and arouse him as she wished, only opening his eyes briefly when she guided him inside her with a rather mischievous grin. Their lovemaking was soft and gentle that night, but over quickly - much to Severus' embarrassment.  
  
"Hermione, I'm so sorry," he stammered, as she flicked her wand to redress them and snuggled back into his arms. "It must be the stress. And I'm just so exhausted. I'm so sorry, I just couldn't seem to hold back."  
  
"There's nothing to be sorry for, Severus," she said. "Tonight was about you, not me. Didn't you enjoy it?"  
  
She looked up with hurt in her brown eyes. He kissed her softly in reply.  
  
"It was incredible and exactly what I needed, Angel. But, are you sure I can't -" he began, dipping his own hand beneath the sheets and reaching for her. She stopped him with a gentle touch and moved his hand upwards to caress their growing child instead.  
  
"No, love. Tonight was for you. Only you."  
  
A few kisses later, the tired and worried pair dozed off into fitful sleep. At midnight, Snape sat straight up in bed, screaming in agony. The Mark had been activated for the third time that day and Hermione's potions were simply no match for its power. He gritted his teeth and muttered unintelligibly to Hermione, as he shot out of bed and began to dress.  
  
Hermione put on her winter cloak and walked him to the front doors of Hogwarts. A heartfelt kiss goodbye and a small, hopeful smile - and he was gone. He had gone to join the Death Eaters for whatever revelry Malfoy had planned for the night. The couple just prayed that the entertainment wasn't Snape himself. She stood on the steps and watched as he stumbled to the gates and turned to look at her one last time before apparating to Malfoy Manor. Hermione stood still for several minutes, staring at the footprints Snape had left in the snow before gathering herself up and heading into the castle.  
  
She needed to talk to the Headmaster.  
  
Her husband had just officially become a Death Eater once again. 


	22. Frozen in time

Author's note: Rated R for a reason. This chapter deals with unpleasant Death Eater activities regarding a child brought in to torment Snape. While it is not graphically violent, by any means, it is unsettling. It was difficult to write. If you wish to skip it, you may. The first paragraph of the next chapter will give you enough information to easily continue with the story without feeling you have missed anything.  
  
**********  
  
Snape apparated just outside Malfoy Manor with a pop. Not seeing anyone lingering outside, he moved up the massive stone steps to the front door. Soon a frightened-looking House Elf was removing his winter cloak and ushering him silently into the green and polished silver of the overdone ballroom.  
  
'The ballroom?' mused Snape, breathing easy for the first time in days as the Mark calmed. 'It can't be too bad if it's in the ballroom instead of the dungeons.'  
  
He couldn't have been more wrong.  
  
Snape's progress halted at the gilded doorway in horror. A large, dirty mattress was placed on the center of the dance floor, minus the comfort of any bedding. In the center of it was a Muggle girl of no more than eight or nine, he thought. She had light brown, curly hair and dark brown eyes and it was obvious she had been chosen specifically to torment Snape - as she looked like a young Hermione.  
  
He looked around the room at the gathered Death Eaters who were all leering at the frightened child and looming over her menacingly. Snape shivered in disgust and forgot all about gathering names of the dark wizards present. His only goal now was to find a way to protect that little girl. His mind whirled as more Death Eaters appeared in the room, some slapping him on the back and welcoming him back into their ranks, some going so far as to congratulate him on Voldemort's death and promising they would now be able to finish Salazar Slytherin's mighty task. Snape grimly smiled and attempted to appropriately respond; while he formulated a plan and fought to keep his dinner down.  
  
Through it all, Snape never took his eyes off the little girl. Finally, she noticed his intense gaze and looked at him. He carefully nodded to her and put his heart and intentions in his eyes. She looked cautiously relieved for a brief moment before McNair stepped up to the mattress and began undressing her with his wand. She locked eyes again with Snape and both began to panic. Snape instinctively reached for his wand and started to advance on the group --  
  
Suddenly, Snape clattered to the floor and realized he was staring at the rather ornate ceiling of Lucius' ballroom. Ostentatious, his bewildered mind processed, then: 'Why the hell am I on the floor?' quickly followed.  
  
Lucius Malfoy's face appeared above him, grinning madly.  
  
"No, no, no, Severus!" he taunted, wagging a finger in his face. "We don't save the Muggles. We're Death Eaters, remember. Like it or not, you are one of us."  
  
The assembled group laughed and assisted Malfoy as he propped Snape's stiffened body against a column at the foot of the mattress.  
  
"I think, old man, that you have spent too much time with your mudblood wife and mudblood-loving friends," Malfoy continued. "I see that we need to retrain you, to show you what Muggles and mudbloods are good for."  
  
Malfoy gestured at the mattress where the terrified girl now lay shivering. He smiled at her wickedly.  
  
"Did you think this kind man was going to save you, love?" he hissed in her ear. "So sorry to get your hopes up, you see, he was brought here to watch, not participate."  
  
And with a casual gesture to the assembled men - monsters, Snape thought - Malfoy turned his Death Eaters loose on the child. Trapped in his frozen body and frantic mind, Snape watched as the young girl was taunted and tormented before finally being raped. Unable to avert his gaze and unable to control the emotions of sorrow, helplessness and rage, Snape ignored the tears streaming from his eyes and mucous from his nose as the girl stared at him in horror and pain. Realizing that he had become her port in the storm, a point of sanity in the horror, he put every ounce of love he ever felt for Hermione and their child into his eyes for the nameless girl and thus communicated his apologies to her.  
  
As the Death Eaters moved from assault to murder, Snape watched as her eyes went from pained, to glazed, and finally, mercifully, to blank. He gagged on his own vomit as his "dark brothers," smeared with her blood, moved to the bar area and began throwing back shots - laughing and discussing their activities as if it had been nothing more harmless than a pick-up Quidditch match.  
  
Soon, Lucius came back over to Snape, waving his wand and muttering to release the hex.  
  
"Petrificus Totalis," he said, smirking. "Handy hex, that."  
  
Released, Snape fell to the floor and retched violently. After his stomach stopped fighting him, he wiped his mouth on his robes and stood defiantly.  
  
"I never took part in activities like that before, Malfoy," he spat. "What makes you think, with a *daughter* on the way, that I would appreciate them now? You bastard!"  
  
"Of course, our gallant, noble Professor Snape!" Malfoy sing-songed, as he circled the still shaking man. "Recipient of the Order of Merlin, one of Dumbledore's pets, lover and father of mudbloods. What's the matter, did you picture your darling wife and daughter on that mattress, Severus?"  
  
Snape roared and launched himself at Malfoy, slamming him against a wall and jamming a forearm across his throat.  
  
"Never speak of my wife or our child ever again, Malfoy," he said. "I will kill you next time, don't doubt it."  
  
Malfoy just smiled innocently at Snape and looked beyond his shoulder. Snape turned to see the Death Eaters surrounding him and their leader - wands at the ready. He reluctantly released Malfoy, taking a slight amount of pleasure in the fact that their brief battle had left vomit and blood smeared on one of Malfoy's expensive-looking murals. Lucius straightened his robes and looked at Snape with venom in his eyes.  
  
"Tonight should be a lesson to you, Snape," he said. "You are one of us and will always be one of us. I will expect you to reclaim your position in our circle and again begin producing the potions and poisons we need. If you do not, you may be called to a meeting where your little mudblood girls are the sole entertainment."  
  
"Although, next time please remind me to host such an engagement in the dungeons," he said, smirking and wiping vomit and blood from his hands. "It appears you do not have the stomach for this as you used to."  
  
Snape continued to hold his tongue and simply glared at the blond man.  
  
"Now get out of my sight, Snape. Go back to your mudblood wife and cry," Malfoy roughly shoved Snape towards the ballroom door, causing him to stumble. The Death Eaters laughed. "And make sure you arrive at our next meeting in a timely manner."  
  
Snape fought to not run from the room and the sight of the little girl lying broken on the mattress. After apparating outside of Hogwarts gates, he broke into a dead run that only ended when he burst into the potions classroom. His friends stood, looking at his filthy, bloody and disheveled state with horror on their faces. He only had eyes for one person, however, and stumbled to Hermione and into her arms.  
  
"She looked like you," was all he could stammer. "Hermione, she looked like you." 


	23. Time moves forward

Hermione gently rocked her husband, trying very hard to ignore the stench of death and vomit that was wafting up from his robes. Since he had entered the dungeons at a dead run moments ago upon returning from the Death Eaters meeting, she had been attempting to control her urge to vomit herself, while she surreptitiously examined Snape for injuries. It appeared that the blood that was splattered over him was not his own. She breathed a sigh of partial relief and muttered useless words of comfort while she gently stroked his head as it lay on her chest, his hands clutching desperately at her clothing.  
  
"She looked like you," Snape repeated over and over as he sobbed. "Gods, Hermione, she looked like you and they killed her. I couldn't stop it. She looked like you."  
  
Their usual support group had gathered in Snape's absence and after a moment or two of shock, the group was able to interpret his incoherent ramblings and put together a picture of the horrors Snape had witnessed. A child that resembled Hermione had been tortured and killed while Snape was hexed and forced to watch - helpless.  
  
The horror of it stunned in them into silence before they all fell to work. Bathrobe-clad Molly set off to the couple's quarters to find a fresh set of robes for him. Ron, in his pajamas and a Weasley sweater, began digging through the potions cabinet for soothing draughts and dreamless sleep potions - enough for everyone in the room. Lupin and Dumbledore quickly bent over parchment at Snape's desk, composing letters to Aurors and others in their elite resistance cell. Ginny, still in her nightgown, attempted to follow her mother, but instead dashed to the nearest lavatory, retching - a worried Harry Potter in tow.  
  
By the time Snape was able to calm down, it was nearly dawn and the group was quietly sitting, supportive and waiting. He stood up and took the robes Molly was offering and walked, without a word, to the bathroom. Ginny hadn't made it far once she finished being sick; she and Harry were a mass of tangled legs, arms and wild hair slumped against the wall beside the door. Snape reached down to gently brush her hair from her tearful eyes and give her a sympathetic, soft smile before entering and closing the door behind him.  
  
Hermione sat still as Molly moved to her, handing her a handkerchief and waving her wand to clean her robes. Ron silently handed her a bottle of soothing potion, which she took without words before allowing Ron to take her into a tight hug. Moments later, a much cleaner and composed Snape re- entered the classroom and without a second's hesitation, walked straight into the open arms of Molly Weasley.  
  
A motherly hug and a few encouraging whispers later, Snape resumed his seat next to Hermione and took her hand. No one seemed to be able to break the silence that had descended over the classroom. The only noise was the hitching breaths being taken by Ginny as she attempted to stop crying and the scritch-scratch of Lupin and Dumbledore's quills on parchment. To break the silence with mere talking seemed a sacrilege, an insult to the memory of the child that was lost.  
  
Then suddenly, the calm was shattered as a masked Death Eater tore into the classroom at breakneck speed.  
  
"Snape!" he cried, and was subsequently hit by a variety of curses as everyone in the room brandished their wands.  
  
The body-bound, petrified, disarmed, jelly-legged man was soon lying helpless on the cold stone floor. Snape began to advance on him, but Dumbledore held up his hand to stop him. Acquiescing to the older and more powerful wizard, Snape stood back and let the Headmaster move to unmask the dark wizard.  
  
It was Draco Malfoy.  
  
Dumbledore removed enough of the curses to allow him to speak.  
  
"Snape," said Draco, his eyes moving wildly in his immobile head as he attempted to find his potions teacher. "Snape, are you all right? My father -"  
  
"Your father is a monster," spat Snape.  
  
"I know. Professor, I can't do this, it's too much. Help me, please," Draco said, breathing heavily. "I'll take Veritaserum - hell, I'll take my own life if I have to. Please Professor, Please. Make him stop."  
  
With a swish of his wand, Dumbledore released the hexes on Draco. As he stood, the old wizard clamped one hand down on his shoulder.  
  
"Ron, will you please see if you can find Severus' supply of Veritaserum?" he asked, in a tone that would have sounded more appropriate at the table asking for the salt. "I believe we have some questions for our young Mr. Malfoy."  
  
And so, Draco was maneuvered into a desk, the truth potion was administered and the questioning begun.  
  
"Are you a Death Eater, Draco?" began Snape. "Have you taken the Mark?"  
  
"No, but I will have to soon," Draco replied in the monotone voice that was the hallmark of someone under the potion's influence. "I have managed to put it off. When my father told me you were coming back, I said I wanted to wait until you could be there for my initiation as you were my mentor. I knew with you being married to Granger now, there was no way you'd return willingly, so I hoped to put it off for quite some time."  
  
"Were you there this evening?" asked Dumbledore.  
  
"Yes."  
  
"Did you participate?" asked Snape, his grip flexing on his wand.  
  
"No. Father had me watching from the bar area the whole time."  
  
"Draco, do you want to be a Death Eater?" asked Molly Weasley, kindly.  
  
"No. I want to finish my NEWTS and go to Oxford and study potions, perhaps go into research. I don't want to kill and I don't need any more money and power than I already have. I couldn't do what they did to that girl tonight and then -" he paused, controlling his shaking voice.  
  
"Yes, Draco, go on," said Molly.  
  
"I couldn't rape someone and then go home to my wife and children as if I'd been out with the boys just playing chess or something. You know, some of them were planning to have sex with their wives when they got home and were bragging about it all." Draco shook his head and looked pleadingly at Dumbledore. "I never had a normal home life, Headmaster. I want one when I'm married. Being a Death Eater isn't a part of that life."  
  
"A wise choice, Draco," said Snape. "How did your father come to lead the new Death Eaters? Pettigrew and I were Voldemort's next in command."  
  
"And you weren't around anymore," said Draco, simply. "Besides, our estate had been host to most of Voldemort's meetings and was Voldemort's hideout for many years. Where do you think all of his things were? His diary? His wand? His books and records? It was easy for my father to assume command - especially once he figured out how the Dark Mark worked."  
  
Silence once again ruled the dungeon classroom as the members of the group exchanged hopeful glances. Snape cleared his throat.  
  
"Draco," Snape said.  
  
"Yes, Professor."  
  
"Draco, do *you* know how the Dark Mark works?"  
  
"No, I don't." Draco paused and looked around at the faces of the unlikely group, as the light dawned. "You're trying to get rid of Professor Snape's Mark, aren't you?"  
  
No one answered, but Dumbledore nodded slowly. Draco turned to face Snape.  
  
"Help me get away from my father and I will bring you all the information he has on the Dark Mark," he said.  
  
Snape stood still for a moment before advancing on Draco. He swiftly stashed his wand away and stuck his hand out in front of Draco. The teenager stood, came around the desk, and took it. They shook briefly before Snape pulled Draco into a fierce, fatherly hug - and let the boy cry.  
  
"See, Severus," said Dumbledore. "I told you that you wouldn't lose all of your Slytherins. You're work with them is paying off."  
  
Snape looked up, once more with tears in his eyes, and smiled shakily at his friends over Draco's head.  
  
And with that smile, another person was officially added to their motley group dedicated to the eradication of the Mark and the Death Eaters. 


	24. Time on the high moral ground

And so, as February came to a bitterly-cold close, it was a decidedly more buoyant group meeting nightly in the dungeon classroom. Draco was accepted by all without comment; even Ron and Harry managed to set aside old differences in order to work with him. Tests and experiments continued at one end of the classroom and a new strategy table had been set up at the other. Snape, Dumbledore, Lupin, Harry and Draco downed endless pots of coffee every night as they formulated a plan to finish off the Death Eaters.  
  
In a short space of time, it was agreed that Draco would write his father and tell Malfoy he was "working on bringing Snape back into the fold." At the next Death Eater's meeting, Snape would bring in a narcotic-based potion as a gift for the group - to "enhance" their revels. Dumbledore's eyebrows raised as Draco and Snape began discussing the details of the potion.  
  
"Don't look at me like that, Albus," said Snape. "An illegal drug that will make them 'high' is much less dangerous to take them, than some type of poison, for example. They will only kill a few brain cells with it - and can't use it to harm anyone else directly."  
  
Dumbledore nodded in understanding. Harry, who had been thinking quietly for most of the discussion, piped up.  
  
"Draco, since the goal of your father and his minions isn't to 'get' me now, why don't you convince Lucius that I want to join you as well. That way, when the time comes for battle, you aren't the only two there. Just tell him I've spent a lot of time with Snape because of Hermione and I want to follow him and secure my future or something," he said, cautiously.  
  
Snape opened his mouth to tell Harry exactly what he thought of his ludicrous idea, when a red-haired blur shot past them and out of the dungeons - obviously upset and obviously Ginny Weasley.  
  
"She heard you, so I think you'd better go to her, Harry," said Snape. "We'll discuss this more later."  
  
Harry looked at him in shock.  
  
"You two aren't exactly as discreet as you think, and I was young and in love once myself, remember?" Snape smiled. "We won't broadcast it to the Daily Prophet, don't worry. Get moving, Potter."  
  
The gang finished their planning and went to the cauldron area to help Molly, Hermione and Ron clean up for the evening. Snape walked up behind Hermione and, wrapping his arms around her expanded middle, hugged her and nuzzled her neck. She leaned back into his embrace and turned her head to gently kiss him.  
  
"Urgh," intoned Ron. "If you guys are trying to make me sick, it's working."  
  
Snape and Hermione turned to glare at the good-natured teen, who was grinning at them and trying to make a face.  
  
"Why don't you guys go on home, we'll finish up and you can go do - whatever it is that overgrown bats and their 'maidens fair' do in the privacy of their lairs," he said, ducking as Hermione threw a dishcloth at his head.  
  
"I think we should do just that," she said, taking Snape's arm and drawing him out of the classroom.  
  
They entered their quarters earlier than they had in weeks. Snape lighted a fire and summoned a House Elf to bring them glasses of milk and a plate of Hermione's favorite cookies. 'Who would have ever guessed I would be cuddling with my pregnant wife and enjoying milk and cookies on a cold night by the fire?' he mused. 'I'm not giving this up, either, not for the likes of Malfoy.'  
  
He sat next to Hermione and they curled up together on the sofa watching the flames. The cookies and milk appeared on the coffee table, but neither moved to touch them - they were too wrapped up in their thoughts.  
  
"Did you know that Harry and Ginny are dating, love?" said Snape.  
  
"No! That little prat didn't tell me!" said Hermione in shock. "I'm going to kill him."  
  
Snape laughed and pulled her a bit closer.  
  
"Well, wait until morning. I'm not sure Ginny is finished killing him yet," he said. At Hermione's questioning glance, he continued. "Harry offered to join the Death Eaters as a recruit of mine. I suppose he thinks it will help me be accepted and will also give us one more 'good guy' on the inside. Ginny wasn't happy about the idea, needless to say."  
  
"I don't blame her," said Hermione, rather coldly and pulling away.  
  
"Angel --?"  
  
"Severus. I don't fully understand why you have to go back to another meeting; why you have to join back up and become a Death Eater officially again. It's insane. Let Draco get the information from his father. Stay here. Stay out of harms way for once in your life. Let someone else do it," she pleaded.  
  
"I can't do that, Angel," he said. "If we are going to convince Lucius that Draco is loyal to him, what better way to do it than Draco bringing him his favorite prey. Without Draco gaining his father's approval, he will never have a chance at seeing the information on the Dark Mark, Hermione. And without that information, the Death Eaters could rise again and I will most certainly be killed anyway."  
  
She stared at him, not responding. He sighed.  
  
"I have no choice, Hermione."  
  
"Yes, you do. Let Draco take Harry, he's a prize, too," she spat.  
  
"You would sacrifice Harry? No, Hermione, I've made my bed, now I must lie in it. If Draco and I are successful, I will never have to waste time on my youthful mistake again. But until then, Lucius is right, I am a Death Eater. And I will always be one, until this Mark is removed," he said, looking into her angry brown eyes. "We can't think of another way."  
  
"Well you had better," she said, rising from the sofa. "You sacrificed 17 years of your life to the cause. Don't think Dumbledore didn't tell me about how many times you nearly died, trying to curb Voldemort's activities after our fourth year. Don't think that I have no idea how many evenings of torture you suffered in an attempt to prove your loyalty again and be admitted to his upper ranks. And don't think that I believe for one minute that you will come out of this crazy plan alive. You won't. You are going to die this time, Snape. You've beaten the odds too many times."  
  
"Hermione, you don't know that," he began, softly.  
  
"No. It's time to stop playing with your mortality. You have a wife, you have a child on the way, you have a home. I want to be happy, safe and comfortable. Stop telling me it is your duty to do this stupid thing or that it is your penance to sacrifice even more than you already have. You're trying to always take the high moral ground in order to redeem yourself," she stormed.  
  
"And I should, Hermione. My first foray into the Dark caused suffering and death, do you realize that? I may never pay my debt," he yelled.  
  
"You accuse me of trying to take the high moral ground," he paused and ripped his sleeve up to expose the Dark Mark. "You tell me how easy it is to take the high moral ground, and be a leader on the high moral ground with *this.* I'm wearing the Dark Mark, Hermione. I'm branded. I have no choice but to take the high road. If I take the low road, I'm lost."  
  
"Then take no road at all," she said, defeated. "Just don't go back to them and get yourself killed. We need you."  
  
"I have no choice, Hermione."  
  
She looked at him silently for a moment and left the room, heading for their bedroom. The sound of the door slamming and the sudden appearance of a blanket and pillow on one end of the couch let him know that tonight he would sleep alone. 


	25. Moments like this

The next morning, Hermione got up early and began to bustle around their bathroom. She looked in the mirror and instead of seeing a tired, angry face - she saw an excited one. For, despite the fight that she and Snape had the night before, today was going to be a good day. Today she would see her baby for the first time.  
  
'The Muggle world should figure out how to mimic the magical sonogram,' she mused as she brushed her hair. 'Gods, I can't believe how excited I am.'  
  
She descended the stairs of their home, humming lightly to herself, and settled in the dining area with a bowl of cereal. Snape looked over the back of the sofa blearily and noted her good humor with astonishment. He struggled to his feet and stumbled over to join her at the table.  
  
"Am I still in trouble?" he said simply after a few moments.  
  
She quirked an eyebrow at him and took in his disheveled appearance with amusement.  
  
"Yes. I don't agree with what you are doing, but I see now that there is nothing either of us can do about it," she said. "And considering that I get to see our daughter for the first time today, I've decided not to let anything destroy the experience or my mood. Not even your apparent death wish."  
  
"That's right, today's the sonogram," said Snape, perking up. "I'd better run up and get changed before I get in trouble again. I'll be right down."  
  
Less than half an hour later they were in the Hospital Wing. Hermione had asked Ginny to accompany them. They hadn't told the young red head, but they were considering asking her to be the baby's godmother. Hermione didn't want her to miss out on this experience - even if she hadn't officially been asked yet. Besides, Ginny looked as excited as they did.  
  
"Are you ready?" asked Madam Pomfrey, as she swept in from breakfast in the Great Hall. The grins the three of them shot her answered her question.  
  
"Lie down, Hermione, and let's see that little girl!" she said.  
  
Hermione laid down on a bed, clutching Snape's hand - which she was amused to note was sweaty and trembling a bit. Ginny took up position on the opposite side of the bed and smiled encouragingly at the couple, catching Snape's eye as he studied their child's future godmother.  
  
Moments later, Pomfrey had brandished her wand over Hermione's swollen belly and begun the incantation. A misty cloud floated above Hermione which slowly coalesced into what was unmistakably a uterus and fetus. As Snape and Hermione looked on in awe, Pomfrey efficiently took measurements and readings. Snape squeezed Hermione's hand as the image rotated and their little girl's face turned in his direction. She looked, he thought analytically, a lot like the alien newborns of his cousins - scrawny in some places, with an oversized head and long fingers. As he watched, his daughter drew one hand to her mouth and began to suck her thumb. The three observers sighed in unison.  
  
"Merlin, Hermione," he breathed. "She's beautiful."  
  
He looked at Hermione, feeling a rush of emotion he wasn't sure he was capable of after the trauma of the last Death Eater's meeting.  
  
"She's perfect like her mother. Thank you, Hermione."  
  
The parents smiled at each other for a moment before turning their gaze back to their developing daughter. Snape glanced up at Ginny briefly and was startled to see the tears streaming down her cheeks while she clutched Hermione's other hand. She grinned ruefully under his scrutiny.  
  
"It's just that there is so much death," she stammered. He nodded in acknowledgement and they both looked back at the image of life before them.  
  
"Hermione, I'm afraid I have bad news."  
  
Pomfrey's voice brought them out of their reveries.  
  
"Excuse me? What is wrong, Poppy? Is it the baby or Hermione? What do we need to do?" said Snape, in a panic.  
  
"Calm down, Severus," said Pomfrey. "It's really just bad news for Hermione. Do you remember when you conceived, dear?"  
  
"Yes, after the Sorting Feast - around midnight," Hermione blushed. "But why -"  
  
"And what date did you leave in the past?"  
  
Hermione thought for a moment. "October 16."  
  
"And what date did you arrive here?"  
  
The light began to dawn. "December 15."  
  
"My dear, you have an extra two months of this. I thought perhaps the baby was underdeveloped, but it appears in the excitement surrounding your return we forgot to figure in the two months you 'lost,'" said Pomfrey, apology resounding in her voice.  
  
"You mean, I'm not due until - July?" said Hermione, incredulously. Snape and Ginny caught each others eye and attempted not to laugh at Hermione's devastation. "I have nearly five more months of this instead of three?"  
  
Hermione looked down at her growing stomach in dismay.  
  
"Gods, Poppy! I'll be huge!" she wailed.  
  
At that, Snape and Ginny could restrain themselves no longer, and they burst out laughing. Hermione glared at them both as they wiped tears from their eyes.  
  
"Snape, I'll deal with you later," she said. She turned to Ginny and poked her trim abdomen with a rather accusing finger. "And Ginny, I thought you would be more supportive. You just wait until you're pregnant and I can make fun of you. Don't think I won't, either. Your time is coming someday."  
  
Ginny grinned at Hermione. "You may tease me all you want, Hermione, when my time comes. I promise."  
  
Pomfrey set about transferring the image of the baby to wizard's film, so the parents could take a few copies with them. The three turned their gaze back to the baby and watched her small movements until the charm wore off and she faded in a puff of smoke. They turned in unison to the mediwitch, who was busy with the pictures.  
  
"Can you make an extra one for Ginny?" Hermione asked, grinning at Ginny. "I think her godmother should have a copy, don't you, Severus?"  
  
The couple looked expectantly at Ginny, who unexpectedly began to cry. She leaned down and hugged Hermione tight, then walked around the bed and hugged a shocked and uncomfortable looking Snape.  
  
"Gods, I never thought in a million years that I would ever hug you," she said, wiping her nose on her robes. "But I couldn't resist."  
  
Snape still looked uneasy at her affection, but he placed a hand on her shoulder reassuringly.  
  
"I promise not to tell the rest of the school that you hugged 'vile Professor Snape,'" he said. "Are we to take your enthusiasm and teary eyes as a 'yes?'"  
  
"Yes! Yes! Yes!" Ginny said, smiling and hugging Hermione once again.  
  
Pomfrey handed all three of them their photos and walked Hermione and Snape to the door. She hugged Hermione briefly.  
  
"I'm sorry, I know it seems like you'll be pregnant forever. But you'll be holding your baby soon enough," Pomfrey said. "Then you'll be asking me to take it back, because it won't stop crying and your breasts hurt from nursing."  
  
Snape laughed, Hermione groaned and then looked around for Ginny who had apparently disappeared.  
  
"Ginny wanted to talk to me, probably about one of her healing arts classes, so she's staying for a bit," said Pomfrey. "You know, I think she may become a mediwitch herself, someday."  
  
"If her mother is any indication, than the daughter should have a knack for it," said Snape. "Molly Weasley is a wonder. And Ginny will be an excellent godmother."  
  
The pair walked out the doors of the Hospital Wing. As soon as they closed Snape drew Hermione into his arms, caressing their child with one hand while crushing her mother to him with the other. He startled her by claiming her mouth passionately and roughly. After a few moments, he broke the kiss and looked at his wife. Her lips were swollen and her eyes were glazed over with desire. He bent down to nip her earlobe and whisper in her ear.  
  
"I don't like sleeping on the couch, Mrs. Snape."  
  
She looked at him for a moment before understanding. A seductive gleam came to her eyes as she replied: "Then perhaps we should go to bed, Professor Snape."  
  
They began the trek to their dungeon home, when Hermione stopped in her tracks.  
  
"Severus?"  
  
"What is it, Angel?"  
  
"You don't happen to have any almond-stuffed, pickled green olives in our kitchen, do you?"  
  
"Uh-no."  
  
"Do you think the House Elves do?"  
  
Snape sighed as they arrived at the door to their rooms. He kissed her on the forehead and opened the door.  
  
"You go rest. I'll apparate to London and find you some."  
  
"Thank you, Severus. Hurry back." She tried to cover her embarrassment with a semi-seductive glance. "We have unfinished business."  
  
"Yes, we do, love. I'll hurry. Why don't you find something green and silver and lacy to slip into for me while I'm gone?"  
  
"Deal."  
  
He kissed her hand with a flourish, and with robes billowing, set off down the corridor.  
  
'Olives!' he thought to himself as he stormed through the snow moments later. 'Almond-stuffed, pickled green olives. She couldn't have craved chocolate today. It had to be gods-awful, specialty, weird olives. Merlin!' 


	26. Timely revelations

March blew in gently, as the snow thought about melting and the breezes turned less biting and cold. Hermione had adjusted to her new "sentence," as she called it, and eventually became grateful for the extra time. Her old due date would have been right in the middle of finals at Oxford, and she truly didn't relish the idea of her water breaking in the middle of an exam.  
  
Today found Hermione, Ginny, Molly and Lupin on a rather girlie shopping trip to Diagon Alley and London. Hermione needed some more maternity items and she wanted to "spend some gold" on the baby. Severus gave her the key to his vault at Gringotts with apprehension - considering the group she was shopping with, he'd be overrun with pink things and broke in less than four hours.  
  
However, he would be eternally grateful that Lupin got the short straw that morning. The girls day out was not an event he felt like chaperoning - and neither had Ron, Harry, Dumbledore or Draco. He chuckled, picturing Lupin in a maternity shop surrounded by racks of bras and enormous knickers, as he skimmed Hermione's latest notes on the Mark.  
  
"We owe him, don't we?" smiled Harry, as the two sat alone in the potions classroom.  
  
"Yep. Better him than us. It was going to be an altogether too feminine jaunt for me. Not to mention, I understand Ginny wants to buy Hermione her first nursing bra," said Snape, shaking his head. "The pictures I saw last night looked like a matronly straight jacket with lots of hooks. I think I may be sleeping on the couch more often than I like in the future - by choice."  
  
Harry looked at his professor apologetically. "Maybe you can put a glamour charm on it to make it *look* better."  
  
Snape groaned as Harry laughed good-naturedly. "Yes, but I'll still know it's there, Potter."  
  
The two men grinned at each other; this was the first time the two had a chance to talk alone in weeks. Generally, Ron, Dumbledore, Lupin, Draco or "the girls" were nearby or a part of the conversation. Snape had, to his chagrin, grown closer to the obnoxious Ron Weasley than Harry - mostly due to Harry being withdrawn lately. He looked at the smiling young man for a moment before deciding to plunge ahead with the question that had been bothering him since he returned from the last Death Eater meeting.  
  
"So, Harry," he said.  
  
"Yes?" Harry said, still grinning and waiting for the cutting comeback.  
  
"When is Ginny due?"  
  
Silence fell in the empty classroom as Harry opened and shut his mouth several times. Snape sat quietly waiting for him to stop gaping and answer the question.  
  
"September 12th," Harry said, finally finding his voice. "How did you know? Did Poppy tell you?"  
  
"No, Harry, no one told me. It was just little clues. For example: you are becoming more and more protective of her, like the way you stepped in front of her when Draco stormed into the dungeons that night. Her reaction that night was to be sick, and I noticed the fumes from the potions have seemed to bother her a few times. I've seen Hermione run for the loo often enough these last few months, I know what a pregnant, sick woman looks like."  
  
"And her reaction to Hermione's sonogram last week was strong," continued Snape. "I was suspicious and the tears confirmed it for me, as did her need to 'visit' with Poppy afterwards. The fact that you were hiding your relationship, also struck me as odd. I assume you got pregnant quickly and you are attempting to hide that fact under a clandestine relationship?"  
  
Harry had the good grace to blush.  
  
"Actually, Ginny got pregnant on our first official date, Professor," he said.  
  
Snape looked momentarily awed.  
  
"I'm not being your professor at the moment, Harry. I hope that I'm being a friend, instead, so you may call me Severus," he said. Harry nodded. "Well, Hermione and I tried to conceive for more than a year, so I am reluctantly impressed. I take it, that since it was your first date, it wasn't planned?"  
  
"No, sir -er, Severus," Harry stammered.  
  
"Have you told Molly and Arthur?" Snape asked.  
  
"No. That's why I'm still alive, Severus," said Harry, attempting a small grin. "Dumbledore knows though."  
  
"What *doesn't* Dumbledore know?" snorted Snape. He looked seriously at Harry for a moment before continuing his line of questioning.  
  
"I assume you both want the baby?"  
  
"Yes."  
  
"And?"  
  
"And as soon as I can get to Gringotts and Diagon Alley I'm going to buy her an engagement ring. I thought to give it to her after the Leaving Feast and maybe we can marry over the summer," said Harry, a hint of enthusiasm creeping into his voice at the prospect.  
  
"And what about her seventh year? And college for you?" came the next question.  
  
Harry sighed. "Dumbledore said I could stay on to train as Lupin's Dark Arts apprentice. It's not exactly what I had planned to do, but it will give me a job, albeit low paying."  
  
"And you'll be close to Ginny. Who, by the way, can no longer be Head Girl and will face ridicule and many difficulties as a student and new wife and mother," said Snape, seriously. "Are you sure this is what you both want?"  
  
"I'm positive. I love her, Severus. I would have married her and had a family with her eventually," Harry said. "I just - I couldn't show her how I felt until after Voldemort was gone. And then after he was taken care of, I was too scared to ask. But, we're happy, despite things not going exactly as we had pictured."  
  
Snape sighed and looked at Harry's earnest, young face. He understood what the young man was saying all too clearly.  
  
"I'll talk to Dumbledore," he began. "On Monday, after your last class, meet me down here. We'll apparate together to Diagon Alley and get your Galleons and find Ginny a nice ring. I think before others start to figure things out or she starts to show, she should have a ring on her finger, don't you?"  
  
"Yes, sir," grinned Harry, looking relieved.  
  
"But, tonight -- *you* get to tell Hermione," Snape said, wickedly. "I've spent one night on the couch in the past two weeks. I don't intend to repeat it because *your actions* have upset her."  
  
"Yes, *sir,*" repeated Harry, his smile fading just a bit.  
  
"And, Harry -" said Snape. Harry looked at him questioningly. "I'm glad for you. It is too soon, and you are too young and too irresponsible. But when you find happiness in this life, you have to take it. I think you and Ginny will be very good together and I look forward to meeting your -"  
  
"Daughter. It's a girl." Harry looked prouder than the last time he had caught the snitch.  
  
"I very much look forward to meeting your daughter, Harry." 


	27. Time for plans

March was a difficult month for them all - most of all for Harry and Ginny. Snape and Harry had purchased the ring, as planned, and later that night in the potions classroom, Harry proposed in front of everyone. Tears of happiness turned to disappointment for Molly and Ron as they discovered the reason for the premature engagement, but Snape managed to head off a full- scale Weasley war with a simple statement.  
  
"Regardless of the fact that they were irresponsible, Molly," he said quietly. "They have both been through much due to these battles - and they deserve some happiness. We all do."  
  
Molly visibly softened and pulled her daughter into a hug. Snape, never one to resist an opening, wickedly grinned at Molly over Ginny's bright hair.  
  
"Besides, I would think you would be happy about this turn of events -- *grandma,*" he sneered, and ignored the dagger stare from the Weasley camp.  
  
"Just remember, I'm only three years older than you," Molly retorted. "When all of my children are gone and gracing me with grandkids - you will still be changing nappies and getting up for three a.m. feedings. I'll make damn sure to rub that in, in a few years, too."  
  
The group laughed, tension was broken, and they all turned their attention back to the matter at hand. If they didn't find the solution to the Dark Mark problem, pregnancies, nappies and weddings would be irrelevant, thought Snape grimly. He joined his wife and Draco at a worktable where they were going over some notes the younger Malfoy made after talking to his father.  
  
"So, you're telling me that your father doesn't really understand the Mark, himself?" said Hermione.  
  
"Exactly," replied Draco. "From what I gather, he barely understood how to activate the Mark, but accidentally found this incantation that gave him control. From that point, it's basically wandless magic-he just mentally calls the Death Eaters to him. And he can mentally decide on the level of 'punishment' or pain they receive. But he doesn't completely understand the texts Voldemort left behind."  
  
Snape sighed and ran his hands through his hair in frustration.  
  
"Not to completely insult your genetic makeup, Draco," he drawled. "But your father is an idiot. An idiot with good luck and more balls than brains. We're going to have to convince him that it is in his best interest to give us the information. I just don't know how."  
  
"Can we convince him that you've developed a potion that will enhance it?" asked Draco.  
  
Hermione knit her brow for a moment before speaking up.  
  
"What if he thinks we've developed a potion that will allow him to channel the power of those who wear the Mark?" she said. Draco and Snape looked at her with interest. "He's power-hungry, so if he thought he could have access to hundreds of wizards' power and thus become more powerful than Dumbledore or Voldemort - he might be willing to turn the information over for our 'research.'"  
  
Harry had been eavesdropping and now joined the group. Ginny watched him worriedly for a moment before returning to her stack of books with Ron.  
  
"Severus, is there a potion that enhances a wizards power? Seems like we talked about one in class -" Harry began.  
  
Snape smirked. "You were actually listening? I'm impressed, here I thought all you had done this year was snog Ginny Weasley in dark corners. Among other things."  
  
"Well, that and I helped my potions master defeat Voldemort," grinned Harry. "But in between the snogging and saving the world, I managed to keep up on my potions homework."  
  
"How I miss the days when you all feared me," sighed Snape. "But, yes, there is a potion that will enhance a wizards potential magical output. It isn't exactly illegal, but the ingredients are difficult to obtain, and very expensive. But Lucius has studied potions himself, I think he would recognize a simple enhancement potion if we took it to him."  
  
"What if we 'spike' it with a narcotic?" suggested Draco. "We make the simple potion, spike it, then we tell him it is a prototype of a potion that will allow the Death Eaters Marks to channel power to him. Say it's channeling Snape's power or mine to him - or Harry's. He'll be high and won't notice that it's a simple enhancement of his own powers, instead. And if all three of us are there, he'll be gloating and so excited anyway, that he'll be fairly oblivious with pride."  
  
Hermione's gaze darkened. Snape shifted uncomfortably in his seat.  
  
"I thought we agreed that Severus and Harry wouldn't be going on this particular mission," she said calmly.  
  
Silence followed her statement. She stood. Snape grabbed her arm.  
  
"We have yet to decide anything, Hermione," he said softly.  
  
She nodded, left the table and the classroom. Before he could wrap up the discussion and follow her to their quarters for what promised to be a rousing fight, Snape's Dark Mark began burning. He quickly borrowed Lupin's winter cloak and nodded at Draco. Together they prepared to leave the classroom.  
  
"Tell Hermione where I have gone," Snape said, looking at Harry. "And, if anything happens to me -"  
  
Harry looked at the man he used to loathe and clapped a reassuring hand on his shoulder.  
  
"If anything happens to you, Hermione and the baby will be taken care of. I promise," said Harry. "They are already like family to us. You'll come back, though, I know it. Because, we have two little girls to meet in a few months, don't we?"  
  
Draco and Snape were soon apparating to Malfoy Manor. The Death Eaters were gathered outside this time.  
  
"Field trip," muttered Snape, under his breath.  
  
"What?" said Draco.  
  
"Field trip. We're meeting outside, which means we'll be apparating somewhere and most likely 'enjoying' a little bloodsport," said Snape, grimly. "There will be a Dark Mark hovering over the home of a mudblood by morning." 


	28. Minutes seem like hours

After a short, militaristic speech from Lucius, the Death Eaters transfigured stones and twigs into their trademark masks and robes and they apparated as one to a home in Surrey. The home belonged to a Muggle couple who had the misfortune of producing a wizard child currently being educated at Hogwarts. Once Snape regained his balance and his bearings, he took hold of Draco's arm and pulled him back into the shadows along the alley.  
  
"I've never taken part in bloodsport and if you are with me, you won't either," hissed Snape. "Even when I was an enthusiastic new member, murder always repulsed me. I've always pretended that I just preferred the sophistication of potions. It also kept me a fair distance from the actual mayhem, and there was less chance that I would be forced into the beatings, violent hexings or rapes. Stay with me, they know I find this both disdainful and distasteful. If you are my protégé and you are bringing me back into the fold, you may thus avoid the same - fun."  
  
Draco sighed with relief and stepped a bit closer to Snape, who laid a steadying hand on his shoulder. They stood in silence and watched the Death Eaters open the back door and enter the small house.  
  
"Professor?"  
  
"Yes, Draco."  
  
"Have you killed anyone? Besides Voldemort, I mean."  
  
A pause. "Yes, Draco."  
  
"Did you -" the student paused, unsure if he should continue.  
  
"Go ahead, Draco. Ask."  
  
"Did you ever rape anyone, Professor?"  
  
Draco saw Snape start as though slapped out of the corner of his eye. He shook his head slightly and visibly gathered his thoughts.  
  
"No, Draco. Voldemort asked it of me only once. When I refused, he -- he turned the rest of the Death Eaters on me when they finished with her," Snape said, listening to the yelled curses and screaming coming from the house with a practiced aloofness only betrayed by the slight tremor in his voice. "After that, there is no way I could or would ever rape anyone."  
  
A cold sneer appeared on his face as he continued: "In fact, since then, when one of the men would attempt to enjoy that particular act of violence - they would frequently find their prey had already died. I believe that most of the deaths on my conscience are those women. The women would have been murdered eventually, but I decided to take their deaths upon myself and save them from any additional suffering or abuse."  
  
"I'm sorry, Professor. Both for what they did to you and for making you remember it now. And thank you for telling me this," Draco said, softly. He reached out tentatively to squeeze Snape's arm in support. Snape jumped and wrenched his arm away from the touch.  
  
"Being responsible for their deaths was a small price to pay, Draco, in order to spare them from the monsters your father associates with," Snape snapped under his breath.  
  
A woman's voice suddenly was heard screaming frantically from inside the small cottage. Snape pulled out his wand and nodded briskly to Draco. A muttered charm later and he was invisible - only the rustle of his cloak against Draco's leg let him know that the potions master was once again on a mission of mercy. Moments later, the screaming stopped and colorful language erupted from among the Death Eaters. Quickly and stealthily, Snape resumed his position with Draco. Then, Snape pulled a parchment from his robes and softly murmured the names of those present, watching as the list appeared written in Snape's distinctive handwriting.  
  
Soon, flashes of green light burst from the home and the Death Eaters began exiting. Lucius stopped to mutter a charm that sent the Dark Mark high into the air over the roof. And Snape and Draco stepped out of the shadows to rejoin the group.  
  
"Severus, old man!" called Lucius, jovially. "I see Draco convinced you to join us tonight."  
  
Lucius hugged Draco and slapped Snape on the back, leaving bloody smears on both men.  
  
"I thought you left the dirty work to the minions, Lucius," said Snape, shooting the grinning blonde a trademark sneer. He pulled his wand from his sleeve and promptly cleaned his and Draco's robes.  
  
"Occasionally, one must let their hair down and play, Severus," said Lucius. "Some day you will understand that and relax. Draco, my son, you must not let Professor Snape and his inability to have fun influence you."  
  
Draco put his nose in the air in a fair imitation of his father and replied: "I find that I prefer the subtlety of potions and poisons, Father. Brute force is for the ill-educated, don't you think?"  
  
In a flash, Lucius pulled his wand and pointed it at Draco's heart, hand trembling. After a moment, his angry face composed itself and he eased up to his son menacingly and pocketed his wand.  
  
"You may be right, Draco. Perhaps potions are more - elegant," he hissed. "I see you have a protégé here, Severus. Make sure you train him well."  
  
"I will," said Snape. "You have my word on that, Lucius."  
  
The Death Eaters were apparating away from the scene of the crime. Snape grabbed Draco's arm and apparated them both back to Hogwarts. As soon as he opened his eyes and saw the gates of his home, Draco stumbled away from Snape and to the nearest bush, emptying the contents of his stomach on the muddy ground. Snape stood quietly watching his student's retching turn to muffled sobs. When Draco calmed, Snape handed him a crisp, white handkerchief and conjured a glass of water.  
  
"You did well tonight, Draco," said Snape softly. "However, you must learn to control your emotions better. We will not always be able to escape quickly or easily. Field trips can frequently stop in more than one location and have been known to last all night."  
  
"I know. I'm sorry, Professor," said Draco, spitting out a mouthful of water. "That monster is my father. I can't seem to get the taste of that out of my mouth. My father had blood on his hands -"  
  
Draco broke off, unable to speak. As he slowly stopped shaking quite so violently, he flicked his wand and the empty glass vanished and the handkerchief was cleaned, folded and pressed. Handing the white linen square to Snape, he pushed open the gates and began the trek up the hill to the school. He did not notice the admiring gaze of his professor, as he walked and held his head high while fighting valiantly to control the trembling of his hands. And neither of them noticed six pairs of worried eyes watching their approach from the Astronomy Tower.  
  
Snape sent Draco to the classroom to report to their motley resistance cell - with stern orders to go to bed as soon as possible and attempt to get some rest. Snape, however, fought the urge to find solace in Hermione's arms and their bed just yet. He trudged up the stairs to the Headmaster's office and quietly spoke the password. Snape entered the office and wordlessly threw the list of Death Eaters onto Dumbledore's desk. When the old wizard opened his mouth to speak, Snape merely shook his head and stormed out of the room.  
  
On his way to the dungeons, Harry stopped him.  
  
"Hermione is fine," he said in answer to the unspoken question. "She waited for you and only went to your quarters when Draco let us know you were safe and reporting to Dumbledore. I asked Ginny to go with her, they're waiting for us there."  
  
"Thank you, Harry," said Snape as he began moving towards his dungeons, his wife and his sanity.  
  
"Wait."  
  
Snape turned in a billowing of robes and ill-concealed irritation.  
  
"Harry. I realize we are more than evil git professor and stupid, rule- breaking teen at this point in this particular battle. If I were being honest, we were probably more than that when we defeated Voldemort together, as well. I am tempted, at the moment, to forget my new-improved 'nice Professor Snape' image and hex you into the middle of next week - anything, so that I can get to Hermione," said Snape, venom bubbling under the surface. "I *need* to see her. Now."  
  
Snape glared at the teenager, who simply cocked his head and waited for the storm to pass.  
  
"Gods!" Snape spat in frustration. "I have lost my touch completely. *What,* Harry?"  
  
"I'm coming with you next time," said Harry. "I've thought about it and I do not want to start a family in a world that still has the Dark Mark. I don't ever want to come home and see the Dark Mark over my house. I don't want Ginny to be forced to sacrifice herself to protect our daughter someday."  
  
Snape sat on the nearest stairs and motioned for Harry to sit with him.  
  
"I know you are worried about Hermione, especially since she is Muggle- born," continued Harry. "You would die to protect her and the baby, wouldn't you?"  
  
"Yes," came the immediate, firm answer.  
  
"I feel the same way about Ginny and our baby," said Harry. "That is why I must do this, Snape. I know I'm young, don't even start that speech. I know I have a life ahead of me and I probably shouldn't risk it. But, I also know it would add to your credibility and to your standing with the Death Eaters if you manage to 'recruit' me. It could help you get the Dark Mark information we need. And I can't live with myself if I don't try - and something happens to someone I care about."  
  
"But, Harry, you are 'The Boy Who -'" started Snape.  
  
"Yes, I'm the bloody 'Boy Who Lived,' all goodness and saintliness - all of that is tabloid bullshit. I'm human, not a saint," snapped Harry. "And now, I'm getting ready to take my NEWTS, get married and before Halloween I'm going to be a father. I think that those things alone would lend authenticity to my defection to the Dark, don't you? Men have joined for less valid reasons. Lucius promises money and power - I'm a desperate teenaged dad who wants both. Toss in the fact that a Death Eater's wife is my best friend and you have a new convert. I'm not going to argue with you about this, Snape."  
  
"I'm in. Like it or not," Harry finished, green eyes shooting sparks.  
  
Snape sighed and buried his face in his hands for a long moment.  
  
"Promise me one thing, Harry, and I'll make the same vow to you," said Snape. "If one of us is killed, the other leaves immediately. No heroics, no attempts to 'save' the fallen one. If I am killed, you leave at once and come back to the girls and take care of them - all four of them. I'll do the same for you."  
  
Harry attempted to protest and Snape ignored his words, simply raising a hand to silence him.  
  
"I want your word on this, Harry, and I will give you mine. Otherwise, you are not coming with us," he said. "One of us has to come home to Ginny and Hermione and the children, do you understand?"  
  
"Yes."  
  
"Then we are in agreement?"  
  
"Yes."  
  
"Good, let's go talk to the girls."  
  
At that, Harry and Snape stood, shook hands, and began the reluctant walk to the potions master's quarters where a fury to rival Voldemort at his most powerful awaited them once they announced their news. 


	29. A time for faith

"No!"  
  
Harry and Snape took a deep breath in unison and raised their gazes to meet the furious ones of their other halves. Hermione and Ginny had spent the better part of the last half hour alternating between pleading and screaming fury.  
  
'This is not going well,' mused Harry.  
  
An exhausted Snape decided to try another tactic and sat, pulling Hermione into his lap. He toyed with one of her curls as he again tried to explain why he and Harry were important to the budding Dark Mark plot to a woman who only cared for his safety and well-being.  
  
"No, Severus," interrupted Hermione firmly. "You shouldn't have even gone tonight. I don't want you in any situation that involves Aurors, the Killing Curse and angry Death Eaters. You have risked your life enough. It's time to be a husband and father - not a spy or a hero."  
  
"I agree with Hermione," said Ginny, arms folded. "Harry, you have more than done your part to fight the Dark. In addition, I am barely feeling prepared to have this baby as it is and I sure as hell don't want to do it without you. I can't and I won't. You aren't going."  
  
"We are." Harry said, with Snapelike venom.  
  
Snape looked at Harry in surprise. He had noticed the teen taking a very gentle hand with his fiancée since they had began dating. What Ginny wanted or needed was what Ginny generally got. Harry left no room for argument with his tone or economical words tonight, however.  
  
"We are going, girls, *because* the two of you are pregnant," offered Snape. "We don't want our children to fear the Dark Mark. If we can get rid of Lucius and his minions, then we have no choice but to proceed with the plan. And I am confident the plan will work. I'm sorry, Hermione -"  
  
The discussion was interrupted when Ginny turned and abruptly exited the room, Harry hard on her heels. Hermione followed them with her eyes briefly before standing to look at her husband.  
  
"I do not want you to go," she said simply. "You've paid your debt, you've done your share, you've been the hero, you have already -"  
  
"I killed a woman tonight," interrupted Snape, striding over to the kitchen and rummaging in the cabinets for his whiskey. He took a glass tumbler from another cabinet and conjured a handful of ice before nearly filling the glass with the amber liquid. He took a long drink and shuddered as it hit his already-queasy stomach.  
  
Hermione sat heavily down on the sofa and lighted the fire with her wand. She waited silently for Snape to continue and attempted to control her trembling hands. He leaned his long frame against the kitchen counter, out of her line of sight, and examined his rapidly emptying glass.  
  
"We apparated to a home of a student," he began softly. "Dumbledore is handling the situation as we speak. Muggle parents of a student and the siblings were murdered tonight. I killed the woman."  
  
"Why, Severus?" breathed Hermione. "How could you?"  
  
"She was being raped, Hermione," he said. "I suppose I could have attempted to save her and get us both killed in the process - and probably Draco, too. No matter what I did, she would die. As it was, I saved the potential for the resistance and I saved her possibly a horrific half an hour, but I can't tell you if it was the right thing to do or not. Yet another innocent death on my hands, Hermione. I don't know how many more I can take."  
  
She stood and walked to watch him finish off his impossibly large glass of whiskey. He spent a few more minutes examining the melting ice before roaring in frustration and rage -- throwing the glass against the stone walls of the dining area. He stood quietly - his stare now on the floor.  
  
After nearly a quarter hour had passed, Hermione moved to her husband and, taking his hand, led him upstairs. He stood impassively, yet with fury and pain still sparking in his eyes, as she drew him a hot bath, undressed him and lowered him into it. She handed him soap and a washcloth, cast a warming charm on the water - and, after dropping a gentle kiss on the top of his head, left him alone with his thoughts.  
  
Hours later, he came to bed, clad in fuzzy pajamas: damp, wrinkled and somewhat recovered from the initial shock. He curled into a small ball on his side of the bed, as far away from Hermione as he could manage.  
  
"Severus," she whispered. "Come here."  
  
"No."  
  
"Yes."  
  
"You can't help, Hermione. You can't change what I did. You can't take the screams away and you can't bring that family back," he said. "I'm sorry for who I am and what I have done. I don't deserve either of you or any of the happiness I've found with you."  
  
"You did what you had to do," she said.  
  
"I know that, but it doesn't help." He took a deep breath. "This is the man you are married to, Hermione. If you can't handle the fact that I have fresh blood on my hands -"  
  
"You did what you had to do," she repeated. "And I think I understand why you have to make sure you are there when this all ends. Just make damn sure that when it is all over, I get my husband back, Severus."  
  
"I'm not sure that he exists anymore," he replied.  
  
I don't expect you to be the young man I married, but I am tired of the drama and the worry. I want our nice, comfortable home, a couple of nice children and a nice, easygoing life. This is your final battle and this is your last crusade."  
  
"Yes. It will be, I promise you that."  
  
She scooted over to his side of the bed and curled up against his still- damp body. Hours later, her soft breathing and the reassuring light from the dawn finally lulled him to sleep.  
  
When he awoke, he found her sitting in a chair pulled up to their bed, still in her nightgown. An open book lay unread in her lap and she was staring out the window at the afternoon sun, stroking her ever-enlarging stomach. He didn't move and instead watched her pensively caress their child for some time.  
  
Finally, her gaze turned to meet his. Wordlessly, she set her book on the nightstand and moved to join him on the bed. She took him in her arms and began kissing his throat and jaw, gently moving to capture his lips.  
  
"Hermione, don't -" he choked.  
  
"Shhhhh," she whispered.  
  
He looked her in the eye and found no revulsion or fear residing in the dark brown depths. Only forgiveness, sadness and love. Swallowing the lump of emotion welling up in his throat, he clung to Hermione like a lost kitten and submitted to her loving ministrations.  
  
Softly, she began removing his pajamas, all the while murmuring words of reassurance and love. Every inch of her husband was caressed with hands and gentle lips before she moved to sit astride him. Locking her eyes with his, she waited until he nodded his permission. Slowly, she grasped him and guided him into her. He gasped and tensed, never taking his black gaze from hers. Tenderly, she made love to him until the tears finally began to stream down his cheeks.  
  
Later, she pulled him into her arms and pillowed his head on her chest. He placed his hand on her stomach and began to skim over its swell, still unable to speak. Suddenly, he felt a small flutter under his hand and his eyes widened in surprise.  
  
"Hermione -" he whispered, his voice roughened by their earlier passion and his continuing distress. "Was that just the baby?"  
  
Hermione stroked his hair back from his face soothingly and smiled down at him.  
  
"Yes, it was."  
  
"There it is again," he said.  
  
They sat quietly taking in the moment. Snape always thought he would be excited the first time he felt her move. But now, the moment held a bittersweet quality that nearly saddened him. He couldn't resist moving his hand against the taut skin of Hermione's belly, however, searching for another elusive 'thump.' He sighed.  
  
"I have been thinking about a name for her, Severus," Hermione said softly. "I think I have come up with the perfect name."  
  
Snape rose up on his elbows and looked at Hermione expectantly. "What have you decided?"  
  
"If you like it too, I'm thinking that the name 'Faith' would be appropriate," said Hermione.  
  
"Faith?" Snape said. A year ago, he would have found the name cloying and very Muggle. This afternoon, it seemed not only appropriate, but the only name for their little girl.  
  
"Faith it is, then," he whispered, trailing his fingers over his daughter. "Faith it is." 


	30. Future musings

"Mr. Longbottom!" roared 'vile Professor Snape.'  
  
The class of seventh years fell silent as Snape stalked the rows of desks, making his way to the trembling young man. His eyes downcast, he followed the trails of melted cauldron and mangled potion as they eased across the wooden table and onto the stone floor. Snape stopped behind the terrified student and breathed down his neck with irritation.  
  
"I believe that is the fourth cauldron you have melted since you lost the oh-so-helpful potions partner that is now my wife, Mr. Longbottom," he hissed. "Do tell me that you can make a potion without her assistance, or I may find you back in this seat next fall. And that would make me *most* displeased."  
  
Neville squeaked slightly and squirmed in his seat.  
  
"As it is, you will find Mr. Filch this evening at 8 p.m. for detention," Snape said in exasperation. "I'm sure he will find something for you to do. And clean this mess up."  
  
Snape moved to sit at his desk and read over the notes that Lupin had made the night before on Muggle narcotics. The Gryffindors appeared to relax, relieved that he hadn't taken any points away. He noticed the tangible reduction in tension and said, without so much as a glance away from his papers: "Oh, and Mr. Longbottom, please note the 20 points that I have taken away from Gryffindor."  
  
His daily 'lion hunt' over, Snape attempted to concentrate on the notes in front of him. Instead his thoughts drifted to his marriage, to Hermione and their child. Faith. His lips silently formed the word: Faith. He stifled a chuckle. That name would definitely cause some students to lose their tenuous grips on reality, the potions master thought wryly. As if the idea that he was reproducing wasn't hard enough on them. He slipped the magical sonogram photo out of his pocket stealthily and stared at it, trying to memorize her little face and hands. If he died at the next Death Eaters meeting, he wanted to hold Faith and Hermione's faces in his mind until the final moment.  
  
'Soon,' he thought. 'Soon the battle will start all over again. I'm so tired of fighting.'  
  
Snape only vaguely noticed when the class ended and dinnertime drew close. Hermione joined him in the classroom and managed to drop her textbooks on a desk before moving to her cauldron and picking up where she had left off the night before. She carefully cast a spell to protect her from the fumes and went to work, rubbing her lower back and neck occasionally.  
  
Observing her through lowered eyelashes, he watched his witch work over her cauldron. Images suddenly came to mind of Hermione bending over the bassinet in their bedroom - empty now, but in his imagination, host to a squirming, pink infant. His mind skipped from their bedroom to the Hospital Wing and he envisioned Hermione, sweaty, tired and happy while holding their child for the first time. His mind flashed years into the future and he pictured himself escorting a young woman with Hermione's features and his hair down the aisle at her wedding, while a beautifully aged Hermione cried. Shaking his head at that image, he returned his thoughts to his wife. He glanced over at her now, her eyes squinting in concentration as she worked on their potion for the umpteenth time. He wished suddenly that she could be sitting in their quarters, nesting or gestating or whatever it is that women do in their final trimester. 'She shouldn't be working so hard,' he thought sadly. 'She should be enjoying this - *we* should be enjoying this.'  
  
Smiling slightly, Snape thought about the year to come, the birth, the moments, the milestones ahead. Christmas this year had been ruined by the Dark Mark - he was determined that it would not happen again for Faith's first Christmas. There would be laughter this coming year for the holidays. A towering Christmas tree in their quarters, icicles sparkling from every inch of the ceiling and a pile of toys and presents to open on Christmas morning. A vision of Hermione and their child lying on the rug in front of his fireplace, asleep or perhaps nursing happily in the sparkling shadow of their tree, sent a shiver up his spine.  
  
Looking at his wife now and her somehow elegant swell, his heart nearly broke.  
  
'I have to come back,' he thought. 'I finally have everything to live for.'  
  
Snape stood and silently walked the short distance between himself and his wife. Slipping up behind her and putting his arms gently around her expanded middle, he buried her face in her curly hair and sighed. Leaning back into his embrace, Hermione relaxed for the first time that day.  
  
"Tired, love?" Snape murmured.  
  
"Yes, magic is more and more difficult as I get bigger and bigger," she said, frustration evident in her voice. "I know it's normal for a witch, just as concentration and things like breathing are difficult for Muggles and witches when they get this far along. But, I feel a bit helpless when I'm not as powerful. And that makes my classes that much more difficult. Let's just say I won't be finishing my college career with a perfect record."  
  
Snape quirked an eyebrow at her and looked concerned. He turned her to face him and took her chin in his hand, turning her to face him.  
  
"Hermione, are you fine with that? I know how important your scores are to you," he said, sympathetically. "Is there anything I can do? Why don't you take some time off from our work and meetings? The rest of us can handle things."  
  
Hermione smiled and took his free hand, guiding it to a particularly powerful kick near her ribcage. He grinned at her for a moment before sighing and becoming serious once again.  
  
"I mean it, love," he said. "I don't want you to overdo and I don't want you to sacrifice the grades that are so important to you."  
  
"My grades aren't that important. I'll still finish with a good overall performance, don't worry. But there are more important things in my life right now," Hermione shrugged. "I guess my priorities have changed. I'm just looking forward to finishing school and being a full-time mom for a while."  
  
Snape snorted. "That will last about three months, I guarantee. You'll need a project and start bothering me or you'll take over my lab or you'll beg Albus for some type of job."  
  
Hermione just smiled serenely.  
  
"You may be right," she said softly. "But right now, being a wife and mother sounds awfully good. Normal. Calm. Right."  
  
"I know what you mean," Snape sighed. "I'm tired of turmoil."  
  
Hermione's magical timer went off and she moved out of Snape's arms and over to her cauldron tiredly. He followed her and took the ingredients from her and led her to a stool that he quickly transfigured into a squashy armchair. He kissed her on the forehead and walked back to their latest trial to finish the potion. After a few moments, he had the new ingredients bubbling away and he turned to urge his wife to return to their quarters and get some rest. To his surprise, she already was. She was slumped in the armchair, one hand under her chin, the other on her stomach - softly snoring.  
  
"I love you, Hermione," he whispered, as he conjured a soft blanket to cover her. Moments later, his wife was snuggled into the blanket and against his chest as he quietly walked through the corridors to their quarters with her in his arms. 


	31. Time for vows

It was nearing midnight one Saturday in April, as the group Hermione and Harry had jokingly titled "la resistance" continued to toil in the dungeon classroom. They had temporarily suspended research into the Mark and had thrown themselves into the development of their "Lucius special." Apparently, they had hit upon the perfect combination of stupidity-inducing narcotics and a temporary power enhancement, because Ron was currently giggling like a schoolgirl and flinging a powerful jelly-legs curse at Snape.  
  
"Gods, that feels good," he said, grinning.  
  
"Ronald," hissed Snape menacingly from his position on the floor. "Watch yourself."  
  
Ron took aim badly and just barely missed Snape with his next hex - a tickling curse.  
  
"And the sad thing is, I know you're going to kick my arse when this is all over, and I just don't care," snickered Ron. "It must be working."  
  
Hermione smirked at her husband and muttered the counter curse as she helped him to his feet. Snape glared at Ron menacingly.  
  
"Mr. Weasley, I would appreciate it if you would refrain from getting even for old resentments," Snape said, attempting to maintain a bit of calm as his wand hand itched desperately. "The first curse you flung at me may have been funny, but the fifth is - I assure you - not."  
  
Lupin and Weasley exchanged a quick look, before Ron pointed his wand at Snape and cried: "Vocalis Canaria!"  
  
Snape's glare intensified and he opened his mouth to tell Ron exactly what he thought about his latest curse - and he chirped.  
  
Ron fell to the floor in drunken hysterics while Lupin chuckled and winked at Hermione. The rest of the group stared for a moment in shock before falling into helpless laughter. Even Hermione couldn't hold back the giggles as she saw the horrified look on her tweeting husbands face.  
  
Snape attempted to again yell at Ron, and the dungeon classroom was filled with melodic birdsong. Frustrated, Snape turned in a swirl of billowing black robes and stalked purposefully to the worktable that held their test cauldron - and antidote. In his best evil potions master mode, he stomped back across the classroom and thrust the vial in Ron's face.  
  
Drink it, Snape commanded his vocal cords to say.  
  
"Tweeep twirt," he actually said. Glaring into Ron's mirthful, watery eyes and looking at his red face with disdain, he took the stopper from the vial and attempted to force feed the laughing boy.  
  
"Okay, okay, I'll drink it," giggled Ron. "Just promise me that you'll give me a running start before you pull your wand?"  
  
Snape nodded and chirped. Ron drank, shook his head to clear it of the original potions effects, and promptly took off out of the dungeons like a shot - Snape not far behind trying to hit his fleeing form with a body bind.  
  
After a few moments, the group finally managed to curb their laughter and get back to business.  
  
"I do believe we needed that," chuckled Dumbledore, as he moved to bottle the "Lucius special."  
  
Hermione shook her head, still smiling. "I know Severus needed it. It's been a rough couple of weeks for him. He still hasn't recovered from the last meeting completely. He's been - withdrawn."  
  
Draco's face turned solemn and he nodded grimly. At that moment, Snape returned to the dungeons with a triumphant grin on his face. He sauntered over to their makeshift snack table, poured himself a glass of milk and began looking for the cookie with the most macadamias in it. Finding one, he turned to face the group and leaned back casually against the table munching.  
  
"Very good cookies, Molly. Thank you for bringing them tonight," he said, not looking up.  
  
"What?" he said innocently, when he finally noticed seven pairs of eyes looking at him questioningly.  
  
"What did you do to my son, Severus?" asked Molly, hands on her hips but amusement dancing in her eyes.  
  
"He's fine," said Snape. "Honestly."  
  
The group continued to look at him in silence. Snape grinned.  
  
"Or he will be once his raging case of acne clears up," he said, smirking. "Should be a day or two. Anyway, I wouldn't expect to see much of him for the rest of the weekend."  
  
"Severus, while you were playing with Ron we were able to bottle the potion," interrupted Dumbledore. "You are ready for the next meeting. A vial of the enhancement potion for Lucius and I believe we almost have 100 vials of the narcotics for the rest of the Death Eaters' 'pleasure.' The next time you are called -"  
  
"I know, Headmaster," said Snape, downing the rest of his milk as if it were a shot of whiskey. "The next time I am called is crucial. Don't worry, we plan to make it count."  
  
Dumbledore looked from Harry to Draco and back to Snape. "Just be certain that all three of you return to us, safe and sound."  
  
Silence followed Dumbledore's decree. It was shortly broken, however, as Ginny Weasley moved across the room to Harry and took his hand.  
  
"Harry, let's get married now, tonight or tomorrow," Ginny said. "I don't want you to go with Professor Snape unless we are-"  
  
"No, Ginny," Harry said gently. "You deserve a nice wedding and a nice honeymoon. We've already done everything else backwards and messed things up completely. I want to marry you in June with our families and friends around, not in a damp dungeon in the middle of the night."  
  
The group was once again silent as they listened to the couple discuss their future. Ginny attempted to explain why she felt she needed to marry Harry soon, but he wouldn't listen. Molly appeared to be speechless and Dumbledore's eyes were twinkling at the prospect of a Hogwarts wedding, so Snape decided to speak to the practical issues at hand.  
  
"Think about it Harry," said Snape. "If anything happens to you, Ginny and the baby will be provided for. You can always have another, big ceremony in June. But this way you are covered."  
  
Hermione smiled at her husband and walked over to lay a hand on his shoulder.  
  
"And I can tell you, that a renewal of your vows is just as special as the original ceremony," she said softly. "New Year's Eve is a very special memory for both Severus and I."  
  
Harry turned to Dumbledore, sighing. The old wizard nodded his permission to the young pair.  
  
"Can you do it, sir?" asked Harry. Dumbledore smiled softly and took both Ginny and Harry by the hand, pulling them to stand in front of him. A few simple words and promises later, and the pair were married. The golden wedding bands Snape had quickly transformed out of potion vials mid- ceremony, sparkled on their fingers as Harry brought Ginny's hand to his lips for a soft kiss.  
  
"You may kiss your bride, Harry," said Dumbledore, twinkling brightly. Molly sniffed and Hermione wiped her eyes as Ginny and Harry tenderly kissed.  
  
"I can face anything now, Harry," said Ginny.  
  
Hugs and tears followed as the close-knit group cautiously celebrated the premature nuptials. Dumbledore summoned a House Elf and gave him instructions to escort Harry and Ginny to a guest suite near Gryffindor Tower, and to bring their personal items there for them late the next day. Harry gave Hermione one last, tight hug, then he and Ginny followed the House Elf out of the dungeons and to their new home.  
  
Snape looked at Ginny's mother, who was still teary-eyed.  
  
"Molly," he said, softly. "When this is all over, I promise that your daughter will get the wedding she deserves and that I'm sure you have dreamed of since before she was born."  
  
Molly smiled at him over her wet handkerchief.  
  
"Already picturing yourself as the father of the bride, Professor?" she asked. He didn't say anything, just simply nodded in response.  
  
"Tonight's ceremony was necessary, not romantic," said Dumbledore. "We are waging war and Ginny and the baby deserved the financial and practical results of the joining. Hogwarts would love to host their wedding in June, Molly. When you explain this to Arthur, make sure he knows that he will still be able to see his daughter in her wedding robes. And I'm sure Ron will need the reassurance, as well. But, I know that Arthur will be most upset he wasn't here."  
  
Molly nodded. Snape moved to pull Hermione to his chest for a brief hug before he turned to the assembled group and softly said: "After all, every father should have the chance to walk his little girl down the aisle, shouldn't he?" 


	32. An era of power begins

They were enjoying a particularly good dinner in the Great Hall the night that the call came. Snape jerked upright, grabbing his arm - a motion noticed by the alert resistance gang. First, Snape and Hermione looked at each other lovingly and made a disgustingly sweet exit - which caused several students to gag on their dinners. Ginny and Harry loudly proclaimed that their honeymoon wasn't long enough and made their way out of the Hall moments later -- much to the amusement of the Gryffindors, most of whom still hadn't adjusted to the week-old marriage of their classmates. Draco noisily threw down his fork, proclaiming that Snape's display with the 'mudblood' had sickened him - and that he was going to go owl his father about the incident instead of attempting to eat. Lupin and Dumbledore waited a few moments before exiting the Hall, pausing at the Gryffindor table to remind Ron of his 'detention' with Lupin, set to begin in a few moments.  
  
Thus it was in a few minutes that the motley resistance cell was gathered in the potions room - and fell to their prearranged duties. Ron and Lupin busily shrank the two crates of 'gift' narcotic potions to fit into their robes, as Draco picked up the potion destined for his father. Dumbledore set about sending owls to Molly, Arthur and their various contacts at the Ministry to inform them that the call had come. Harry and Ginny sat silently, side by side at a desk, her head on his shoulder and his hand gently caressing her stomach - both pairs of eyes closed. Hermione was hovering over the pained Severus, attempting to comfort him as he donned his Death Eater robes and tried to pull himself together for the evening that lie ahead. Preparations complete, the group snuck out a hidden side door of Hogwarts and advanced to the gate as one. There, handshakes and hugs were shared before the rest stepped back to let the wives say goodbye to their husbands.  
  
Snape simply drew Hermione into his arms and rested his forehead against hers for a moment. His hand drifted to the graceful arc of her pregnant stomach and caressed her slowly and tenderly, sighing. Gently, he captured her mouth in a soft kiss before letting her go and stepping back to the apparition point. Their eye contact didn't break as Harry and Ginny finished their passionate kiss goodbye before Harry and Draco joined Snape. The three men joined hands and then they were gone.  
  
Hermione stood in shock and stared at the empty air that had contained her husband moments earlier. She and Ginny barely noticed when their friends gently guided them back to the secret exit and back into the dungeons. To wait. To wonder. To worry.  
  
And worry they should, mused Snape as the three apparated to Malfoy Manor. Once reality came back into focus, he briefly gave each student a quick squeeze before dropping their hands.  
  
"Lucius!" he cried, forcing fear from his voice and joviality in, as they entered the Manor house. "Lucius, look who I have brought to join our little party this evening."  
  
Lucius walked to the trio, eyes narrowed as he took in Draco and his rival, Harry Potter. Potter looked nervous, thought Lucius, flicking his eyes from Snape to his son and then back to Harry.  
  
"Mr. Potter," said Lucius. "I would never have expected to see you at one of our humble gatherings."  
  
Harry stood silently, sweaty hand clenching his wand and a defiant look on his face.  
  
"Mr. Potter has found himself in an awkward situation this term, Lucius," said Snape, smirking. "He has found himself with a pregnant one night stand whose father insisted that he marry her immediately. The little idiot has apparently never heard of birth control, Muggle or magic. He's in a bit of a spot, Lucius, and I've convinced him that our goals and our work just might be the solution he is looking for."  
  
"Is this true, Mr. Potter?" hissed Lucius.  
  
"Yes, sir," said Harry, voice wavering slightly. "I had hoped to go to university on a Quidditch scholarship, but they won't take a student with a family in the residence halls. And I can't leave my girlfr-my wife and baby at Hogwarts while I start college and travel around playing Quidditch, anyway."  
  
"You're little wife is younger than you?" Lucius hissed.  
  
"Yes."  
  
"Who is she? A mudblood?"  
  
Snape took the moment to intervene. "No, Lucius, it's Ginny Weasley."  
  
Lucius smiled his predatory smile and circled Harry menacingly.  
  
"A Weasley? The Minister of Magic's own daughter? And you realize how upset our dear minister would be if he knew his illustrious son-in-law were here tonight?"  
  
"Yes. I don't fucking care what he thinks," spat Harry. "I don't want anything to do with him or the rest of the Ministry. And if I had anything to do with it, I would neither be married nor preparing to become a father."  
  
Lucius chuckled. "My, my, my we do have ourselves in a bit of a bind do we, Mr. Potter? Have you any money?"  
  
"No, Dumbledore is supporting me."  
  
"And without the university, you have no future, you know that don't you?" sneered Lucius.  
  
"Yes. That's why I'm here."  
  
"What do you want, Harry?" said Lucius in a mesmerizing voice.  
  
"Power." Breathed Harry. "Money. Out of my marriage."  
  
"Good, very good," said Lucius, briskly turning to Draco. "Now, my son, you said that you had a new potion for me. Did you bring it with you? And where are the 'party-favors' you promised the men, Snape?"  
  
Draco stepped forward and handed his father the vial as Harry and Snape set about enlarging the crates of narcotics for the rest of the Death Eaters. Lucius sniffed the potion and thrust it roughly to Snape. Harry and Draco began handing out the drugs.  
  
"Drink it," he said. "Take a good gulp, Snape old man."  
  
Snape did, briefly feeling the effects of the narcotics before the antidote kicked in. He gestured grandly, indicating he was fine, and handed the vial back.  
  
"It is a potion that will pull the power from other wizards and allow you to use it," said Snape. "Used properly, with the right wizards and witches to pull from, and we will be more powerful than Voldemort could have dreamed of."  
  
"*I* will be more powerful than Voldemort had dreamed of," corrected Lucius, draining the vial of the rest of its contents. After a moment, he pulled his wand and casually pointed it at one of the masked men.  
  
"Avada Kedavra," he lazily said. And the man fell to the ground in a burst of green light.  
  
Lucius growled like a lioness who had just made a bloody kill. He turned and laid an evil smile on the Hogwarts trio.  
  
"Good work, good work, my dear boys," he drawled, as the narcotics hit his system fully. "You have pleased me. MacNair! Bring me Voldemort's notes, I believe we have two new Death Eaters to welcome into our band."  
  
Draco and Harry exchanged nervous glances that did not go unnoticed by the elder Malfoy.  
  
"Now, now boys, don't worry," he said. "Taking the Mark will only hurt for a moment, isn't that right, Severus?"  
  
Snape looked at his two, scared students and put on his best, 'evil Snape' face.  
  
"Whether it fucking hurts or not, I have risked a lot to bring you two here tonight," he snapped. "You're bloody well taking the Mark"  
  
"Either that," Snape continued. "Or you can go back to Hogwarts as ashes. Take your pick."  
  
Harry looked from Lucius to Draco and then to back Snape. He held Snape's glare defiantly and slowly began rolling up his sleeve. Draco followed suit. Soon the two boys were kneeling in front of Lucius and Snape as the older men began the complicated enchantment that would create the Dark Mark. 


	33. Night from Hell

The incantations, thankfully, were brief. Each member of the Hogwarts trio, brows furrowed in concentration, tried to commit each word and action to memory. Every swish of the wand, every Latin phrase and every call to the powers of Darkness were duly noted and filed away for future use. If only the horror of the evening could be filed away, as well, thought Snape, as he chanted with Lucius. Then the two boys -- *his* boys, *his* students - could wait until they were ready to handle the emotional ramifications of this night and only then, pull out the memories for inspection and introspection.  
  
Snape's eyes communicated understanding and reassurance to Harry as he grasped the young man's arm and began the intricate design that is the Dark Mark with his wand. The charmed tip of his wand burned and seared the white flesh of Harry's forearm as he twitched and struggled not to scream. Draco could barely hold back a whimper as his father simultaneously traced his wand across his son's translucent skin. Soon the enchantment was concluded - and the true horrors began.  
  
Muggle women were brought in and the Death Eaters fell upon them, ravenous with lust and rage. The narcotic-based potion barely slowed the majority of them down - although a few seemed to be perfectly happy simply drinking and eating. Lucius stood off to one side with Snape, Harry and Draco, who were all mentally running over the specifications of the Dark Mark incantation and attempting to ignore the 'party' around them. Harry fought back tears as he watched his fellow Death Eaters plow their way viciously through the women while Draco sent surreptitious glances of disgust at his father - who appeared to be enjoying the show. Only Snape stood expressionless and apparently emotionless.  
  
"Come boys, this little party is in your honor, after all," drawled Lucius. "Harry, wouldn't you like to have a little fun before you go home to your little wife? And Draco, my dear own son, come with me - let's see how you are coming on your casting of Unforgivables. I'm sure we can find a Muggle to enjoy, then you may practice."  
  
Lucius smiled predatorily and held out his hand to his son. The boys were momentarily dumbfounded at the request - no, it was a demand wrapped in Lucius' own brand of poisonous sugar. Snape, however, had anticipated and been waiting for the 'request.'  
  
"No, Lucius," he said firmly, placing a strong hand on each student's shoulder. "These are my protégés. I have overseen their training since they came to Hogwarts and I alone will continue to teach them about the Dark Arts. They will become intelligent, elegantly vicious and very deadly wizards, I promise you that. But, I must insist that they not take part in this or any other 'revel.' Bloodsports such as this are for those who are poorly educated and are too idiotic to use their brains, I am training them to be better than that."  
  
Lucius looked like he would like to kill or hex Snape. He spat: "Watch yourself, Snape, old man. You are alive and you are still a Death Eater because I have use for you. No other reason," he said. "Remember you are in my debt."  
  
"And remember that your son and the Boy Who Lived may not be among your ranks if it weren't for me," hissed back Snape. "I will train them as I see fit, Lucius *old man.* Now, why don't you go and enjoy yourself, Lucius. Perhaps the boys and I will go home, it's been a painful night for them - you remember how much taking the Mark hurt as well as I do."  
  
Lucius softened somewhat and smirked at his son, nodding. He clamped down on Draco's arm and dragged him from Snape's protective grasp.  
  
"But, first, I must insist that my son meet one of the Muggle ladies," he said, smiling darkly. "The men went to much trouble to find just the right girls this time."  
  
And then Draco was gone, pulled into the throng of drugged merriment by his father. He shot one look of panic and helplessness to Harry and Snape before he disappeared. Harry was desperately trying to not lose his dinner or show his intense fear in front of the dark crowd as he constantly scanned the group for Draco. Snape merely tightened his protective grip on Harry and his wand.  
  
Around dawn, the three were finally able to apparate back to Hogwarts. Draco, in bloodsoaked robes, was shellshocked and unable to speak - merely nodding and shaking his head in response to Snape's gentle questions. The three entered the classroom and stood in the doorway for a few moments just looking at the familiar surroundings and their friends. The contrast of the warm dungeon room with its snack table of cookies, milk and freshly baked bread; gently bubbling cauldrons; glowing candles and concerned and loving faces with the cold, hateful and deadly horrors they had just lived through was startling. Draco seemed to be shocked back into motion as he quickly scanned the group and darted to Molly Weasley, burying his fair head in her lap and sobbing violently. Molly looked questioningly to Snape.  
  
"Both of our new spies took the Dark Mark tonight," he said calmly, steering the still-stunned Harry Potter to his crying wife and scanning the room for Hermione. "Harry and I managed to avoid the unpleasant 'Muggle- sports' that followed, but young Mr. Malfoy was not so lucky. I believe his father forced him to rape and possibly kill a Muggle woman."  
  
The head in Molly's lap briefly nodded. Fighting back her own disgust and horror at touching someone who had committed such acts, Molly gathered Draco into her arms and pulled him on her lap like she would a small child - and simply rocked him until his sobs were spent. Ginny and Harry were locked in a tight embrace on the opposite side of the classroom, Ron hovering nearby. Hermione looked from Harry to Snape and then to Draco, shuddering tiredly and placing a protective hand over her stomach. She quietly turned and went back to work on their latest trial. She looked exhausted and a bit unsteady on her feet, he thought. Snape fought the urge to go to her and find solace or reassurance. Not only did she seem unprepared to give it, but he had work to do.  
  
He grabbed quills and parchment off of his desk and hastily scribbled out a note to post on the potions classroom door. There would be no classes until further notice. All of their time, efforts and abilities would now go to the link potion. Classes could wait, he thought briefly, if the Dark rises powerfully this time, there may be no one left to practice potion-making anyway. It was time to stop the Death Eaters once and for all. Harry noticed Snape's quiet flurry of activity and joined him at the worktable, after giving Ginny a final kiss and sending her to bed.  
  
"Draco," Snape called quietly. "We need you."  
  
"I can't, Professor," came the muffled reply.  
  
"If you don't fight them, then that woman died in vain. Don't do that to her," Snape said. "Make her death a part of the solution, Draco, not a completely pointless and senseless act forced upon you both by your father. Do you understand me, Draco?"  
  
Draco nodded and pulled himself together. He gave Molly Weasley a slightly embarrassed, small smile as he stood up. She squeezed his hand as he leaned back down to plant a kiss on her cheek.  
  
"Thank you."  
  
"Stop your father, Draco," she said softly. "You can help end this nightmare."  
  
Draco nodded once again and joined Snape and Harry at the table. Together, they sat until nearly lunchtime, putting together the pieces of the Dark Mark and it's incantation. Finally, Snape felt they had a complete account. He made several copies and sent the boys to bed, while he took a copy to Dumbledore.  
  
"We'll be ready next time," he told the older wizard. "I think we have the information we need to destroy the link Lucius has with our Marks via a potion. I'll need Hermione and Flitwick to add a charm to the potion so its effects can never be reversed - but, we will be ready. The Death Eaters were thrilled with the vials of narcotic potion we gave them, we'll just add the link destroying agents to a similar drug for our next meeting."  
  
Dumbledore nodded. "Perhaps we can track the three of you this time, and once the link is broken and the Death Eaters are all drugged, we can bring in the Aurors," he suggested.  
  
"Good plan, but I would recommend that we add a calming solution to the narcotic-link potion, then. They will be too drugged, happy and drowsy to fight the Aurors," Snape quickly replied, fighting back a yawn.  
  
"Go to your rooms, Severus," said Dumbledore, without emotion. "You need sleep. Come talk to me again tonight after dinner."  
  
Dumbledore sighed and turned his attention to the landscape out of his office window. Snape stood silently for several moments, staring at the old man that was half mentor, half personal antagonist. When Dumbledore turned his eyes back to the potions master, they were filled with sadness and disappointment. Snape felt like he had just been slapped with the gaze.  
  
"You are disappointed in me," Snape said, realization and sleep-deprived anger hitting him. "I am risking my bloody arse nearly every week and you are sitting there on your damned throne judging me!"  
  
"I only wish that Harry and Draco hadn't been forced to take the Mark," the old wizard said, rather sternly. "I am not angry with you, Severus. I am angry at the situation. Go to bed. I believe your wife is waiting for you in your rooms."  
  
Snape opened his mouth to let loose with another volley of outrage and, receiving a sharp look from the Headmaster, snapped it shut just as quickly. He turned on one heel and stormed out of Dumbledore's office, slamming the door behind him as he went.  
  
He frightened many students with his scowl, billowing robes and disheveled, wild appearance on the way to his home in the dungeons. Opening the door, he scanned the living room and found Hermione sleeping on the sofa. She had obviously been waiting for him, and upon closer inspection, she had obviously been crying. Snape quietly covered her with a blanket and sat down in his favorite armchair to doze and wait for her to wake. Moments after he sat, he slept.  
  
"Severus?" came the voice, cutting into the hazy fog that was his tired brain. "Severus, go to bed."  
  
Hermione was sitting up on the couch, calling to him from across the room. He came fully awake and stood to join her on the sofa. When she noticed that he was advancing on her, she cringed and shrank back into the cushions. Startled and scared of her reaction, he stopped mid-stride.  
  
"Hermione, we need to talk. Please. You are acting strangely. What is wrong?"  
  
Her brown eyes flashed and she laughed with a hysterical edge to her voice.  
  
"Let's see, my husband is a Death Eater. My best friend is a Death Eater. They attend meetings where mudbloods and Muggles are regularly killed for fun. I'm pregnant and Poppy said that if I don't slow down, I could go into premature labor and my baby could die or have problems. But, if I slow down and don't keep working on this damned potion, then I could lose my husband, my best friend and the wizarding world could face another war like we had with Voldemort," she spat. "Oh, and I'm trying to finish my degree so I can have a job someday, in case my husband's death wish is fulfilled. And my back hurts."  
  
Snape took a chance and moved to sit next to Hermione, rubbing her back until he hit the right spot and she arched into his touch involuntarily.  
  
"Poppy is right," he said. "You have to stop pulling all-nighters and you have to take better care of yourself. I'll be fine. You take care of yourself and Faith - and I'll make sure that the world is a bit safer place for her when she gets here. Deal?"  
  
"Deal." Hermione sighed sleepily and Snape maneuvered her so she was lying on the sofa once again. He then began to rub her feet and swollen ankles until she fell asleep. He spent the next few hours watching her silently, thinking about the new potion and the defeat of Lucius and his cronies.  
  
This time, Snape would make sure the Death Eaters never returned. 


	34. The past is the past

"Dammit!"  
  
Crash!  
  
Hermione cautiously poked her head into the potions classroom and looked around for her husband, who was most assuredly the cause of the swearing and the noise. She found him sitting dejectedly on the floor, an overturned cauldron dripping silently nearby.  
  
"What's the matter, love?" she said, almost afraid to know the answer.  
  
"It didn't work, Hermione. I have been over and over our notes and it isn't working. I can't reverse the enchantment. We need Voldemort's original notes," he sighed, running his hands through his hair in frustration.  
  
"It's two in the morning, love," she said, moving to him and offering him a hand up. "Time for good future daddies to go to sleep. Or at least come to bed and service their wives."  
  
He looked at her expectantly. One eyebrow raised slowly.  
  
"Do you mean 'service' as in shagging like a couple of teenagers, or do you mean you really just want another backrub?" he asked, grinning.  
  
"I'd love another backrub, if you're offering," she said, pulling his hand and leading him out of the room and down the corridor. "But the shagging sounds good, too. I think you need to release some tension, don't you?"  
  
Snape nodded and waved open the door to their rooms with his wand. He swiftly picked his wife up in his arms and carried her to their bedroom, laughing when she swatted at his arm and accused him of reading her romance novel stash once again. In scant minutes, she was in his bed, lying on her side and arching into him as he awkwardly and gently thrust into her from behind. It wasn't exactly the most romantic way to make love, he mused, but it was the only semi-comfortable angle she could stand with the way the baby was currently sitting. Frustrated, he shifted and attempted to get some feeling back in his left leg. She smiled and placed a hand behind her on his cheek while leaning her head back to whisper words of encouragement to him and words of lust to drive him on. He stopped for a moment, panting and chuckling.  
  
"There has to be a better way to do this," he breathed. "We're wizards, surely there is some levitation charm or -- something! My old body just wasn't meant to have a pregnant young, lusty wife."  
  
"Most men your age would kill for a young wife," teased Hermione. "And besides, I've heard that this type of position is fun - a lot of people like it. It's even in that kinky sex manual that Ron sent us for Easter." Snape rolled his eyes and grinned at his wife.  
  
"Merlin, you must need to be a contortionist for the last three months of pregnancy. Hermione, I can't even kiss you properly from this angle," he pouted.  
  
Hermione just laughed and began their strange rhythm again. Moments later, Snape abruptly stopped again.  
  
"Now what?" she asked.  
  
"I love you, Hermione," he said, wisely deciding to not proceed with his complaints and whining.  
  
"You'd better," she said, smiling. "Now, service me, husband."  
  
She felt, rather than saw his grin.  
  
"Yes, ma'am!"  
  
  
  
The next morning a sore, yet reasonably relaxed, Snape returned to the potions classroom to find his mess cleaned up. Draco Malfoy was already there, sitting at the worktable, sullenly munching a muffin taken from a plate in front of him that was piled with a variety of them. Snape joined him at the table and helped himself to a chocolate chip muffin. He waited for Draco to speak.  
  
"No luck last night?" Draco asked.  
  
"Depends upon your definition of 'lucky,'" smirked Snape.  
  
"Ugh, yuck, there are things I don't need to ever visualize," growled Draco. "The thought of you and Granger in bed together is one of them. I need to go wash my brain now."  
  
Snape smiled at his student and understood what he was saying under the joking words.  
  
"It will get easier, Draco. I promise someday this will be behind you and you can be as happy as Hermione and I are," he said. "You don't think so now, but you are one the right side of this battle, and sometimes good intentions -"  
  
"I know, I know," said Draco, a bit hatefully. "Sometimes the end justifies the means. Do you think that when you kill a Muggle woman who is being raped? Are you really trying to save them or is it just your way of slipping in a little murderous fun?"  
  
Snape sat shocked for a moment and looked at the boy he had been attempting to reassure. Fighting the urge to throttle him, he settled on hissing at him with as just as much hate.  
  
"Yes, Draco, in those particular cases, the end justifies the means," he spat. "They were already destined to die and I could prevent their last moments from being filled with rape and abuse. A more humane death is all I can give -"  
  
"Humane? There is nothing humane about murder. Or rape. You said you'd never raped a woman - do you have any idea what it does to them? The look in her eyes, Snape. Her spirit was dead before I ever killed her body. I'll never forget it, I'll never stop seeing her eyes. So keep your comforts and your soothing lectures to yourself. You haven't been there and - You bastard, you have no fucking idea what you are talking about."  
  
Snape sat quietly for a moment, staring at Draco.  
  
"Draco, I have a very clear idea of what I am talking about."  
  
Draco snorted and glared at Snape. "You've already said that you never - "  
  
Snape interrupted Draco with a sharp look, abruptly stood and moved to the cauldrons that were bubbling in a hypnotic and soothing pulse. He stood silent for a moment before turning to look at Draco.  
  
"I told you I was punished by the Death Eaters for refusing to rape that Muggle woman all those years ago," he began, looking at the boy's right shoulder instead of into his eyes.  
  
"Yes, but -"  
  
"How do *you* think they punished me, Draco?"  
  
Icy blue eyes met black and held for a long moment. Snape then returned to his inspection of the cauldrons.  
  
"I'm sorry, Professor," stammered Draco. "I didn't realize that was what you meant."  
  
"It was a long time ago, Draco," sighed Snape. "And please, don't mention it to anyone. As Hermione has been pregnant since her return, I have decided to wait to tell her about the incident and some other horrors of my Death Eater and spy days. I'm afraid it would be too much for her right now."  
  
Draco nodded and suddenly began rummaging through his book bag.  
  
"My point was," continued Snape, "that you can't dwell in the horrors of the past, you can only live through them and then get past them. Hermione and I have a good marriage and I believe that once this business with your father is over, we will be happy. We have been through a lot -- we deserve to be happy. You have been through a lot already, Draco - and you deserve to be happy too. Just remember, it will take some time. Don't push yourself."  
  
"And don't turn into a bastard like me," smirked Snape, in an attempt to lighten the mood.  
  
Draco offered up a grin to the potions master as he pulled a burlap wrapped parcel from his bag. Snape looked at it curiously as Draco pulled the rough cloth away from the thick book.  
  
"Voldemort's journal," breathed Snape. "The Dark Mark information is in that book. How on earth did you get it?"  
  
"Hermione owled me last night and said you were stuck. I took a chance and told my father I had an idea to improve the Mark's powers, but that you and I would need to look at the original book," shrugged Draco. "So he gave it to me."  
  
Snape walked to the table and sat next to Draco, eagerly beginning to skim through the information with him. Moments later, Snape slammed his hand down on the table, causing muffins to fly and Draco to jump. He excitedly pointed to a paragraph and a picture in the text and grinned a decidedly wicked and vile Professor Snape grin.  
  
"This is it, Draco," he said. "By midnight, we will have the potion ready to go. Go get Dumbledore and owl the rest of the group. We need all hands on deck tonight if we are going to make up more than 100 vials of the potion."  
  
He smiled at Draco and clapped him on the shoulder enthusiastically.  
  
"It is almost over, my boy," he said. "And then, we can have our lives back."  
  
  
  
Hours later, the 'la resistance' gang was gathered around Snape and Hermione, anxiously waiting for a small vial of crimson potion to cool. Hermione tested the temperature with her wand and, satisfied, handed it to her husband. Snape brought the vial to his lips with shaking hands and drank its contents quickly, grimacing at the taste.  
  
Moments later, Snape was on the cold, stone floor, writhing in pain and clawing at his forearm wildly. Waving Hermione and the others away as they attempted to offer him comfort or assistance, he curled up into a ball on the floor. He pressed his forehead onto the cool surface and moaned.  
  
Minutes later, the pain had passed and they were gathered around Snape once again, inspecting his arm. His forearm was the bright red of a severe burn and appeared to be blistering where the outline had been. However, the Dark Mark was gone.  
  
Hours later, nearly 100 vials of the narcotic-laced and strongly calming Mark potion were filled, bottled and ready to go. Dumbledore's eyes twinkled at the group for a moment before he crossed the room to Snape and drew him into a tender, grandfatherly hug. Snape bristled for a moment at the old man's attempted affection and offer of truce, before awkwardly returning the embrace. In his ear, he heard the old wizard whisper:  
  
"Never disappointed in you, my son. I could never be disappointed in you." 


	35. A time for death

Lucius made them wait another week before calling them once again. Harry and Draco were sitting with Lupin, Ron and Snape in Dumbledore's sitting room when it came. Hermione had been put on partial bed rest once the potion was finalized, and she and Ginny were ensconced in Hermione's bedroom - presumably talking pregnancy and babies. The men sat around the fire in Dumbledore's quarters discussing the same two topics, with Quidditch and sex thrown in for a good measure - talking about anything but the trials that lay ahead.  
  
Mid-conversation, Harry and Draco both jumped and clutched their forearms.  
  
"It's time," said Snape briskly. "Let's gather our things and alert the rest."  
  
Quickly, robes were donned and crates of vials shrunk, owls sent and words of encouragement murmured. Hermione pulled Snape aside for a moment, fear in her eyes. He drew her to him in a gentle hug and sighed, dropping a hand to caress their daughter. Faith returned his touch with a series of thumps and kicks.  
  
"This will all be over soon," he said. "Faith will never have to worry about Death Eaters or the Mark in her lifetime. If I don't make it home, Hermione, I want you to know that it was worth it - to know she is safe."  
  
"Come home to us," she said.  
  
"If something goes wrong, I want you to be happy, to make Faith happy, remarry, have lots more babies. Don't waste your life mourning me," he said urgently. "Promise me, Hermione. I stopped living when I thought I had lost you all those years ago, promise you won't do the same thing. Live and love for me. Promise me."  
  
She shook her head.  
  
"No, you have to promise to come home to us," Hermione insisted.  
  
"I will do everything in my power to come home," he said.  
  
"And if you do not, I promise to try and live and be happy," she said.  
  
Crude vows hastily taken, the pair kissed deeply until a throat being cleared nervously brought them back to reality.  
  
"We have to go," said Draco pointedly.  
  
And with longing looks to Ginny and Hermione, Harry and Snape joined Draco in the walk to the gates and their apparition point. Soon, the classroom was full of Aurors and other Ministry officials. Ron, Dumbledore, Lupin and Arthur Weasley huddled in a corner with the enchanted parchment that would show them when the vials had been consumed - and when the time was right for the attack.  
  
At Malfoy Manor, the Death Eaters were waiting anxiously for their latest fix in the ballroom. Snape and Harry had produced many vials of the original narcotic for desperate Death Eaters over the past two weeks. The men practically fell upon the Hogwarts trio as they appeared in their midst. Quickly, vials were brought back to their regular size, handed out and unceremoniously drunk. Soon, many of the Death Eaters were twitching in pain and Lucius had pinned the three with a vicious and furious glare.  
  
It was time.  
  
In seconds, the room was full of Aurors and the rest of the 'la resistance'group - the ones who weren't expecting, that is. Wands were pulled and more than half of the Death Eaters fell to full body binds and Petrificus Totalis easily. The other half put up a fight. Enraged by the pain and their betrayal by Snape once again, the Death Eaters ferociously attacked the Aurors - despite the fact that their energies were being weakened by the calming solution. The Hogwarts trio pulled their wands and stood with their backs together, dropping as many Death Eaters as they could with curses and a variety of hexes. The three inched themselves to the doors of the ballroom as the battle raged - eventually escaping into the rest of the manor house.  
  
They were looking for Lucius. But, before they could continue the fight, they had something they needed to do first. Pulling the two boys into a cloak closet, Snape handed them each a vial of the Mark potion minus the narcotics but plus a powerful painkiller.  
  
"You won't feel a thing until morning," he whispered. "Then you'll feel the burn just like the rest of us."  
  
They nodded and drank deeply, ridding themselves of the Mark forever. It had only been two weeks, but it had been long enough, thought Harry. Long enough.  
  
They left the safety of the closet and moved downstairs to Lucius' dungeons and his study. Lucius stored his Dark Arts books, potions and other objects in his study - and something told Snape and Draco that was where they would find him.  
  
They did.  
  
Draco took the lead, entering the dark room and advancing on his father, who was frantically gathering up valuables and stuffing them in a satchel.  
  
"Going somewhere, Lucius," hissed Draco, brandishing his wand.  
  
"Draco, my dear boy," Lucius replied, his eyes wild and angry. "My son, you must help me. Where is Snape?"  
  
"I'm right here, Lucius," drawled Snape, entering the room with Harry. "What can I do for you, Lucius?"  
  
"You can burn in Hell is what you can do. You did this," said Lucius, his smooth voice dripping venom. "I don't know how you did it, but you have destroyed everything. You're going to pay for it, too, Snape. You'll pay for turning my son against me most of all."  
  
"I told you he was my mentor, *Father,*" smirked Draco. "What did you expect?"  
  
Things happened then at lightening speed, but when Draco thought about it in later years, it would replay in his mind in slow motion. Lucius roared, whipped out his wand and took aim, lobbing curse after curse at Snape, Draco and Harry. Most were easily deflected by the trio, the few that landed on flesh were easily countered by a quick mutter by Snape. The four seemed hesitant to launch a deadly strike, however, until Lucius turned to Draco and spat:  
  
"What is the matter, Draco? Can't even cast a simple killing curse? I see you've been hanging out with your mudblood loving friends for far too long. You're soft. You couldn't even enjoy yourself at our last meeting! I was ashamed of you then, as you cried while you took your Muggles life. I'm ashamed of you, now. You're a coward, Draco. Just like your little friend, Snape, here. None of you have the courage to complete Salazar Slytherin's great work or reap his rewards. You are weak."  
  
With that tirade, Lucius raised his wand once more and pointed it at the trio. They raised their wands in a defensive mode and waited - none of them wanting to cast the fatal curse. It was only a split second before Lucius opened his mouth and cried:  
  
"Avada Kedavara!"  
  
Draco cried the same words at the same time, as Harry and Snape yelled defensive spells. A horrible green light bounced around the room, blinding Draco momentarily before he was knocked unconscious. When he came to some time later, his father lay before him on the floor - dead and lying stiffly face up with his icy blue eyes open wide. Draco moved to his father and pried his wand from his hand, snapping it. Draco looked behind him to where his mentor and classmate had stood. Only one dark haired man was there - and he was lying on the floor motionless and not breathing. The other was nowhere to be seen.  
  
"Please don't be dead, please don't be dead," whispered Draco. A quick examination of the bloody and bleeding man left Draco convinced that he was in fact, dead - or very near to it. He grabbed the body and rushed outside to apparate back to the safety of Hogwarts and to Poppy Pomfrey's expertise. "Please don't be dead, please don't be dead."  
  
Quickly moving through the gates of Hogwarts and rushing to the main doors, Draco did not realize he was being watched with horror by the pair of wives that had been left behind. The two women at the top of the Astronomy Tower quickly took in the messy black head of hair being cradled to Draco's shoulder, the deathly white hands and the massive amount of blood, which was disturbingly visible even from a distance. Ginny swayed and nearly passed out as both women realized that one of their men was either dead or gravely injured. One of them could already be a widow. Ginny began sobbing uncontrollably, as Hermione gently held her and began guiding her to the Hospital Wing.  
  
"Please don't be dead, please don't be dead," whispered Hermione, as she clutched Ginny to her side. "Please don't be dead, please don't be dead." 


	36. The key to time

The two women rushed through the darkened corridors of the castle to the Hospital Wing and were both frustrated and shocked to find the doors locked and Nearly Headless Nick standing guard. Ginny responded by sitting down on the stone floor with a thud, helplessly wiping away tears. Hermione just got angry.  
  
"Let us in, Nick," said Hermione, attempting to catch her breath. Nick simply shook his head in response - causing a bit of a disgusting flapping motion of his neck. Hermione glared angrily. "Nick, if you weren't already dead, I would kill you. Let us in."  
  
"I can't, Poppy said to make you wait until she had time to work on him," Sir Nicolas replied haughtily. "I am sorry, ladies."  
  
"Who is it, Nick, who did Draco bring in?" asked Ginny.  
  
"I don't know," said Nick. "Poppy summoned me after she had pulled the curtains. All I know is that it is a grave injury and I assumed it was one of your husbands, as I was asked to keep you out here while she worked."  
  
Hermione sighed and pretended to turn away dejectedly. Instead she turned and surreptitiously grasped her wand. 'Ghosts can't be killed,' she thought, 'but I seem to recall they can be petrified.' She spun on one heel and brandished her wand: "Petrificus Totalis!"  
  
Nick froze and Hermione easily levitated the ghost away from the doors. A quick tussle with the wards and they were bursting through and into the wing. Draco was standing outside a curtained bed and they dashed to him.  
  
"Hermione! Ginny!" Draco's face was streaked with blood and salty tracks of tears. He looked exhausted and heartbroken, as if he were only holding himself upright by magic. And perhaps he was.  
  
"Draco, what is it? What is wrong? Who is it?" they both cried. Questions and tears spilling over each other as they reined in their panic. "What happened?"  
  
Draco pulled both distraught women into a loose embrace and attempted to control his own feelings for the moment, in order to comfort them.  
  
"There was a duel with my father in his study," he said. "Snape, Harry and I fought him and my father and I both attempted the killing curse at the same time. It - backfired somehow and we were all knocked out, I think. I woke up and my father was dead. He wasn't breathing, so I brought him to Pomfrey as fast as I could."  
  
"But, is it Snape or Harry-who is it?" pleaded Ginny.  
  
"I'm sorry, Ginny, it's Harry," he said softly. "He was bleeding heavily, too. I don't know what happened." Ginny began crying even harder as Draco and Hermione pulled her into a tight hug. "Pomfrey can fix just about anything, Ginny. I know he'll be okay."  
  
Hermione looked at Draco over Ginny's head and met his blue eyes. Sad blue eyes. Moments later Poppy opened the curtains to usher Ginny in to see her husband. She smiled reassuringly and nodded slightly at Draco and Hermione. Harry, it seemed, would live through yet another battle with evil.  
  
"He was hit by Cruciatus several times," Poppy said. "And he had quite a bit of glass buried in his arm and face. Apparently he fell into a pile of broken glass when he fell. Ginny, come on in and you two, go get some rest and you can see him in the morning."  
  
Slowly, Hermione and Draco made their way to the potions classroom. It had been a refuge for many months now and it seemed to be the best place to go. They entered and the candles and fireplace flared to life under Hermione's command. Draco walked soundlessly to their snack table and picked up a stale scone to nibble. He did not meet Hermione's gaze.  
  
"Are you doing all right, Draco?" she finally asked.  
  
"I'm fine. I just want Harry to be okay and we need to find Snape," he replied, stoically. "I don't know if we should go back to my father's house and see if our help is needed. I don't know if we should wait here. I don't know if we should wait in Dumbledore's office. I don't know if I should go back and -- take care of my father's body. After all, there isn't exactly a manual written about how to deal with your father's death - when you're the one to cast the killing curse."  
  
Snorting, Draco finally raised his eyes to meet Hermione's. They were haunted and cold. He threw down the scone and began to pace the room. After a few moments, he said: "I'm sorry, Hermione, I don't know where he is. He could have been banished, killed and his body transfigured, he could have rejoined the battle upstairs, someone could have taken him to St. Mungos - I just don't know where Snape is."  
  
  
  
Snape, for his part, wasn't exactly sure where he was either. Opening his eyes, he saw only darkness and where he was sitting was squishy and damp. In his hand, he clasped a Muggle house key tightly. 'What the hell just happened?' he thought. He sat up and tried to stand but winced at the pain in his leg, before abruptly sitting back down. Slowly, memory came back to him of the last moments of their battle with Lucius.  
  
"Avada Kadavara!"  
  
Green, deathly light bounced crazily around Lucius'study as Snape and Harry shouted counter curses and blocking spells. After slamming into Lucius and dropping him, the light faded in intensity, but continued to ricochet off walls. Books fell off of shelves; pictures off walls and the overdone chandelier looked like it could go any moment. That was when the eerie light turned on them and swished through Draco and Snape, finally fading out as it gently bounced off of Harry's chest - barely causing him to flinch.  
  
Draco was knocked cold, he remembered. He was dizzy and flat on his back, the room spinning crazily around him. Harry, damn him, had managed to stay upright and was busy checking to see if Lucius was truly dead.  
  
"Yep, he's dead," Harry muttered, before turning to wryly grin at Severus. "Draco is going to need some help when he comes to. I'll stay with him, you Portkey back to outside Hogwarts and make sure someone looks at that gash before you bleed to death."  
  
Gash? What gash? Snape had thought. He looked down at his arms, torso and -- - ah, that gash. A framed wizard picture had fallen from the walls during the green lights assault on the room - the glass had shattered and a large shard had embedded itself in Snape's leg as he himself fell. He had already lost a lot of blood.  
  
"Shit!" hissed Snape as the pain and realization hit him. "Gods that hurts."  
  
At that moment, they heard voices coming their way. Harry bent over Snape, dug through the professor's robes and found the small Portkey he knew Snape had, as they had each prepared one before the meeting.  
  
"Harry, I'm fine, help me to Lucius' desk chair and I can be upright to cast," said Snape.  
  
"No, you are going home to Hermione," said Harry. "I'll deal with this, you get home."  
  
"Gryffindor glory-seeking, idioti-"  
  
Snapes tirade was cut short as Harry simply shook his head and pressed Snapes Portkey into his hand, muttering the charm to activate it. The voices became clearer and louder while the room blurred. Snape sneered at Harry as the familiar tug in his belly hit him - and he was unceremoniously dumped in the darkness.  
  
It was the darkness of the Forbidden Forest. Snape's eyes began to finally make out the shapes of his favorite spot in the forest - a small clearing full of medicinal wild herbs and mushrooms. Exactly where the Portkey was supposed to take him.  
  
"It appears that my Portkey worked," he said to the darkness. "Now, let's get back to Hogwarts and see if the raid by the Aurors worked as well."  
  
If everything went well, he thought as he prepared to apparate to the gates, he had a wife to kiss, a daughters arrival to prepare for and a happy life to live. 


	37. Moments' and recovery

Snape apparated just outside the main gates of Hogwarts and only had to wait a few moments for someone to discover him.  
  
"Severus!" said the voice of his rescuer. "We've been looking all over for you!"  
  
It was Albus Dumbledore, of course. Snape smiled ruefully at him as the old wizard examined his injured leg. Ron, Lupin and the Weasley parents were with him, disheveled, dirty and tired looking - but all safe.  
  
"Where have you been, Severus?" asked Dumbledore, gesturing to Ron to help him get Snape to his feet.  
  
"Harry and I both had Portkeys with us, Headmaster. We agreed before we went tonight that if one of us was killed, the other would immediately come home to our girls - battle and heroism be damned. However, Potter in all his wisdom decided that my injuries were grave enough to send me home," said Snape, as the men pulled him to his feet. "I didn't think that I might have to Portkey back injured when we made our plans. And we both picked safe places in the forest to Portkey to - in case we were tracked or followed. Blasted Harry Potter activated the Portkey and I was dumped in the middle of the Forbidden Forest. It was some time before I could muster the strength to apparate home. I may cause bodily harm to Potter for this one."  
  
Snape grinned as he hopped on one leg with his arm around Ron Weasley's shoulder on the path up to Hogwarts. He realized that the others weren't amused at his ill fortune. The other faces on the path were still very grave and he was immediately gripped with fear.  
  
"What?" he snapped. "What aren't you telling me?"  
  
"Harry was attacked and seriously injured after he sent you home," said Ron, tightly. "We're not sure if he's alive."  
  
"Fuck," swore Snape, hopping faster. "He should never have sent me home. Fuck!"  
  
The group slowly made their way into the castle and up to the Hospital Wing. Upon entering, Ron nearly threw Snape onto a bed and immediately went looking for Harry - tossing back curtains with a wild look in his eyes. Poppy Pomfrey heard the noise and rushed out to attend to her newest patient - and attempt to quiet Ron, who was disturbing everyone else.  
  
Suddenly, Ron reappeared by Snape's bed, face blazing with crimson to match his flaming head of hair.  
  
"Ron?" queried Snape. "What is it?"  
  
"He just walked in on a -- erm - moment, between his sister and I," a voice said beyond Snape's curtain. A second later, Harry Potter poked his head around the white material. He was leaning on Ginny for support, who was blushing with a ferocity to match Ron - and had forgotten to rebutton her blouse.  
  
"You all right, Snape?" Harry asked. "I expected you would have beaten me here. We were all worried."  
  
"Yes, I'm fine. I just need to get to Hermione at some point tonight - OUCH! Gods, woman, I make painkillers for you on a regular basis, can't you actually USE one?" Snape yelled as Pomfrey yanked the glass from his leg. She smirked at him and handed him a small vial, which he gratefully downed. A few minutes later and Snape's leg was as good as new - although the potion Poppy had given him to counteract the loss of blood would take several hours to completely replace his blood supply.  
  
"May I go now, Poppy? Hermione must be beside herself with worry," he said, contritely.  
  
Poppy looked from Snape to Harry and Ginny with a stern glare.  
  
"You may go to Hermione. And, Ginny, you may stay with Harry. However, there will be no 'moments' for either of you tonight. I trust you understand what I mean?" Snape and Harry nodded guiltily - a few hours of 'moments' were exactly what both men had been hoping for upon their return. "I mean it, you are both lucky to be alive and I don't want either of you making your conditions worse because you decided that you had to have marathon sex with your wives all night long. Do you understand me?"  
  
Harry looked like he was about to protest, but Snape spoke up dejectedly: "Don't start, Harry. You'll just get us both in trouble."  
  
Albus and Arthur Weasley chuckled as a defiant looking Harry was escorted back to his bed by Ginny and Molly; while a pouting Snape waved his wand to repair his pants and clean the blood from his clothing.  
  
"Newlyweds!" grumbled the mediwitch under her breath.  
  
Snape's mischievous side heard her and could not resist the retort. "Now, Poppy, you were at our wedding, you know that Hermione will celebrate our 20th wedding anniversary this year. I hardly think we qualify as newlyweds."  
  
"Get out of here and go to your wife, Severus," laughed Pomfrey, swatting at his arm with a towel. "If you're well enough to be a smart arse, then you can go home. But, please, take it easy."  
  
Snape grinned at her and bounced from the bed, nearly running to the dungeons. She wasn't in their rooms, so he headed for the potions classroom. He found her there, with Draco Malfoy in her arms. She looked at him over the blond, bowed head and smiled with welcome and profound relief. He crossed the room and carefully pulled Draco from his wife's arms, forcing Draco to look at him.  
  
"Draco. I am very proud of you. You did what had to be done to save innocent lives tonight at great personal risk. And at great personal loss. You are a brave man. And a good man. I am proud to call you my friend," Snape said calmly, looking into the sad, blue eyes.  
  
"I killed my father," said Draco, over and over. "I killed my own father."  
  
"Draco, have you ever cast the killing curse before?"  
  
"No, not before tonight," said Draco. "My father forced me to try with that Muggle woman, but I couldn't do it. I had to kill her with a knife, instead."  
  
"I don't believe your powers are ready to cast the killing curse, yet," said Snape, softly. "The only wand I saw produce the Avada Kadavara curse tonight was your fathers. Somehow, I believe, the combination of all of our curses and counter curses caused his to -- to ricochet - he was killed by his own curse, Draco."  
  
"Are you sure?"  
  
"I am not positive, but I believe so. Now, son, I also believe that the Headmaster is waiting for you in his office. Your mother should have apparated here from Paris by now - she's waiting for you as well," said Snape. "It's over, Draco. Take the time to heal, then make sure you live your life to the fullest. Do you hear me?"  
  
"Yes, sir," whispered Draco. He took a deep breath and attempted to put on a sly, lazy trademark Draco Malfoy sneer. "Now, if you two will excuse me, I am ashamed to admit that I want my Mummy and I need to go."  
  
Hermione and Snape both smiled and hugged their friend good-bye. As the door clicked shut behind him, Hermione asked Snape if he thought Draco would recover.  
  
"Yes. I think he will. His mother will help him. She has been on our side for some time now, and we took her into protective custody today while she shopped in Paris. I think Draco has what he needs to get on his way to recovery. He will never forget, but he will recover."  
  
"Will you?"  
  
Snape turned to his young wife and pulled her into his arms, his hand drifting to caress her stomach out of habit. They stood in the soft embrace silently for some time. Finally, Snape took a deep shuddering breath and said: "I'm already on my way." 


	38. Hints of the past

Days later, after press conferences, Ministry questionings, a horrible photocall for the Daily Prophet and more publicity than the little resistance gang could have imagined, things began to settle down. Arthur, Molly and Lupin went back to their lives and duties - however many more owls than usual sped between Hogwarts and the Burrow nowadays. Hermione settled in to finish her final exams and put the finishing touches on her paper, titled "Potions and their Transformative Properties in Enchantments." She was surprised when she was contacted by a wizarding book publisher to document the development of the Mark potion and their plans. She, of course, accepted - the advance alone would put Faith through Oxford someday. The rough outline was completed one evening after a particularly rough session with Ministry officials.  
  
Draco had decided to skip the last few weeks of class and had taken his NEWTS early, he and his mother had left immediately afterwards on an extended trip to New York City. Ron, Harry and Ginny returned to classes - behind, but with a greater maturity and sense of purpose.  
  
Snape's potions lessons were once again being held - and the angry, snapping voice of the potions master echoed through the dungeons once again as idiot students resumed their testing of his patience. One day in mid- May, about two weeks after the final battle with the Death Eaters, Hermione was walking past the classroom when she heard her husband bellowing angrily at her former lab partner - who appeared to have melted his 13th cauldron of the year. She chuckled at her gentle husband's display of temper as she continued on her trip to the library.  
  
"Who would have guessed that my sweet and rather shy young husband would have turned into that vile, greasy git of a bat," she murmured to her stomach. She had taken to talking to Faith of late, as had Snape. She loved to watch him lie with his head in her lap, reading children's books to the baby, or just talking and telling her how much Daddy already loved her. Hermione was grateful that life had settled down. Turmoil was, hopefully, a thing of the past.  
  
Speaking of the past --  
  
Today, she was letting exams go, letting papers slide and forgetting about deadlines with publishers. Today, she had decided to spend some time in research of a more personal nature. For the past six months, she had forgotten about her mysterious trip to the past. Other things had taken precedence, but now, she could return to the conundrum that had defied solution. Her sharp mind couldn't let it go. She carried a huge sheaf of parchment - some new and some old - containing notes, diagrams, analysis and information regarding magical output readings at the scene and some notes about how she may have affected the future.  
  
She grabbed a handful of books on time travel that she thought may be relevant off the shelves and headed to the faculty lounge off the library for a bit of work. Hours later, after most of the castle had gone to bed, she thought she might have an idea of how she wound up in the past. Darting to her bedroom, she grabbed her favorite set of dress robes from her closet. The crimson and gold gown and robes she had been carrying the day she disappeared, had worn the night they fell in love, the night they first made love, the night their child was conceived and the night of their reconciliation in the present time line - among other, less memorable nights and special occasions. She loved these robes, as did her husband, but could they be the key?  
  
Taking the robes to the now-empty potions classroom, she ran several tests on the material and construction - Muggle and magical. There was nothing special about the garments. The only charm on the material was the usual wizarding "sure fit" clothing charm. Several charms relating to Hermione's hair or appearance, and a couple relating to love-making had left residual traces on the robes. But nothing else. Nothing.  
  
"Dammit," she swore, as Snape exited his office and joined her at her workstation. "I just knew that somehow these had been charmed as a makeshift Portkey through time. I hadn't thought of it before, for some reason. But you and Harry creating Portkeys made me think that perhaps it could be done for time travel, as well. You see, Harry and Ron bought these for me the day that I vanished."  
  
"I know," said Snape, sliding his arms around her - naughtily bypassing her rounded tummy to sneak a caress of her sensitive breasts. "I remember. I knew that was the day you were to vanish, as Albus had broken down and given me that information. I followed you three to Hogsmeade and then again on your way home. I had to see you vanish with my own eyes. I had to make sure that - well, that things happened as they were supposed to, I guess. And that you were unharmed in the process."  
  
Hermione smiled and leaned back against him, while at the same time arching her breasts into his hands more fully. They hadn't made love since before Lucius was killed. She didn't know if it was because of the trauma of that night, or because she was nearly full term and clumsily awkward. Either way, she was grateful to have his touch now. She silently waited, however, sensing he had more to tell her.  
  
Snape took a deep breath and continued, seriously.  
  
"And I wanted to see you one last time, as well, in case you weren't destined to ever come back to me. And I nearly blew my cover, so to speak, in the clothing store. You had on those robes and this gown - modeling them for Harry and Ron. They had played an important role in our lives in the past. You were so damned gorgeous in them - and you knew it, you were practically twirling in front of the mirror like a ballerina," he smiled into her hair. "I wanted to grab you right then and there and ravish you. But you *were* still my student - "  
  
"I'm not your student now," Hermione said seductively.  
  
Snape raised one eyebrow and turned her to face him. "Hermione, are you sure? I know it is difficult for me and - well, I'm not the one who is pregnant. Isn't it uncomfortable for you? I want you but I do not want to hurt you, I can wait until after the baby gets here."  
  
"I have an idea," smiled Hermione. "How are you at warming charms?"  
  
Her husband just smiled and allowed her to lead him from the classroom through the main doors and outside. She proceeded to a secluded nearby area of the lake and stood on the shore, slowly stripping off her robes and underthings in the shining moonlight. She turned to face Snape, who was standing dumbstruck and breathless at the sight of her ripe form in the pale illumination.  
  
"Merlin, Hermione, you are an angel," he said. "A goddess."  
  
She snorted at his flowery compliments - a very un-godesslike thing to do. Smiling, she picked her wand up off the shore and directed it at Snape. A charm later and he was also nude in the moonlight.  
  
"If I'm a goddess and an angel, then what does that make you," she said, fully expecting a devilish reply from her mischievous, and very obviously aroused, husband.  
  
He strode to her and pulled her into his arms for a long, lingering kiss. Breathless, he broke their kiss to murmur: "It makes me a very lucky man, Hermione. That's what it makes me."  
  
Hermione handed him her wand, he took it and muttered a warming charm targeted at both of them. They then walked into the lake, waist -deep on Snape and nearly shoulder-deep for Hermione. He gently kissed her and lifted her - fitting her legs easily around his waist, the water giving them the ease of motion and the grace that a bed couldn't at this stage. She leaned back in his arms as he slowly and tenderly made love to her pregnant body - in the lake where their child had been conceived so many years ago.  
  
Later, they were dry and curled up in their cozy bedroom, drinking hot cups of herbal tea and talking quietly about the future and the coming birth. Suddenly, Hermione sat up in bed.  
  
"What is it? Is it the baby? We shouldn't have had sex tonight, should we? Was I too rough with you? What is it? Hermione?" Snape stammered in one panicked breath.  
  
"It's not the baby," she reassured him. "Breathe, Severus. I'm fine. I just thought of something. You said you were on the path with us when I vanished."  
  
"Yes, I was a few steps behind you."  
  
"And you didn't see anyone else?"  
  
"I was pretty focused on you at the time, Hermione," he said. "I thought I might never see you again, so I was drinking in every second I had of you. Why?"  
  
"Something that was in Albus'notes. He said that only the four of us appeared to have been on the path at the moment of my disappearance. That the charm that sent me back was unrecognizable and very complex and there were those magical output readings, too, that were odd. I thought perhaps - I don't know. Maybe that there was someone else there, or that you saw something. No flash of light, no Portkey rock that I stumbled over, no one popping out of the bushes to brandish their wand at me?"  
  
"No, the only people there were you, me, Harry and Ron," said Snape, uncomfortably. "Those magical output readings Albus conducted should tell you that."  
  
Hermione looked at her husband for a moment. He sighed and put the cup of tea down on his nightstand and returned her gaze, waiting for the storm. She struggled with her thoughts for a moment and then asked.  
  
"Severus, did you send me back?"  
  
"No, Hermione, I did not. I thought about it, but I didn't. I decided that it would be best if I not intervene," Snape said. "Besides, I didn't know a charm that would work."  
  
She believed him. She told him so, kissed him lovingly and they fell asleep in each other's embrace. But she was still bothered by the mystery. Hermione Granger Snape hated not being able to solve a mystery. A few days later, she was once again going over Albus'notes when it hit her. Not what the notes said, but what they didn't say. Suddenly, the pieces of the puzzle fit together. She sped from their quarters to the Headmaster's office.  
  
He was speaking with Arthur Weasley and merely looked at Hermione when she arrived at his door. She looked at him in astonishment for a full minute, startled by the twinkle in his eyes.  
  
"You, I - you had to have known - it's -- "  
  
"I suspect you have solved your mystery, Mrs. Snape?" the old wizard interrupted.  
  
Another gaze locked for a revealing moment. It all finally made sense.  
  
"Yes, yes I have." 


	39. It is time

The rest of May passed quickly, as did the majority of June. Hermione was finally free of school, having finished with honors - if not at the top of her class. Her book had a solid three chapters completed already and the outline seemed to change and improve daily. Her marriage was finally the happy one she had dreamed of, only marred by an occasional nightmare or spat. The squid had gotten used to their regular visits to his lake as of late. Hermione had been shocked and Severus thrilled to discover her desire and libido only increased as she neared her delivery date. Life was turmoil free and happy - if a bit wet.  
  
But she was weighted down. It wasn't just the baby, who was near term and causing every part of her body to ache. It was also the new knowledge of the circumstances of her disappearance. It was hard to accept. So, in typical Hermione fashion, she threw herself into research of time traveling spells and charms. Thus far, she hadn't managed to find a powerful enough spell to send anyone that far back in time, nor had she found a spell that could be so time specific as to send her to an exact moment in time. She just had to find it, she just had to. In an unspoken agreement, she and Albus had decided not to tell Snape about her discovery. Perhaps someday, he would be ready to hear it. Perhaps someday she would be ready to tell him. Or perhaps not. Perhaps it would have to always be her little secret.  
  
She was sitting in Snape's office one afternoon in late June when their quiet new world of books, long walks around the lake and soft talks at midnight was shattered forever.  
  
Faith gave a mighty kick. And her water broke.  
  
She had been uncomfortable all day, but since her due date was still three weeks away, she hadn't considered she might be in labor. Apparently, she was, she thought wryly. She was suddenly hit by a violent fit of shaking, which drew her husband's attention. He stood abruptly and rushed to her side, appalled at the shuddering and looking at the rapidly seeping fluid on her robes and his chair in horror.  
  
"Hermione! What is it? Are you all right?" he asked, panic creeping into his voice.  
  
She couldn't answer for a moment, but as the shaking subsided, she gave him a beatific smile. "I'm fine, Severus. Never better. But I think our little girl wants to meet us today, so I think we should head for the Hospital Wing."  
  
Snape grinned and pulled her into his arms for a tight hug and a long, passionate kiss. Breaking the kiss after a contraction hit her and she began to pant a bit, he looked into her eyes reassuringly.  
  
"I'll be there the whole time, Hermione. I promise, you will be all right and get through this. Gods, I had no idea how excited I would be," he was grinning like an idiot, he knew, but he couldn't help it. "I can't believe I am going to be a father, finally. Thank you, Angel."  
  
"Thank me when it's over," said Hermione, grinning up at him as they slowly made their way to the Hospital Wing. "If you still have your manhood intact, then you can thank me."  
  
"I love you, Hermione," he said.  
  
"I love you, too, Severus," she replied, stopping as a contraction hit her and she needed to lean upon him for support. "Whew, I can't believe how quickly I just went from 'backache' to 'serious pain.' It doesn't get that much worse, does it?"  
  
Snape just smiled reassuringly and kissed her forehead. He put his arm around her waist and gently guided her to the Hospital Wing. There, she was ensconced in a bed and fed ice chips while Snape wiped her forehead with a damp cloth as she labored for what seemed like days on end.  
  
Around midnight, Snape left Hermione's side briefly to down a cup of coffee and a sandwich -- and to plead with Madam Pomfrey.  
  
"Please, Poppy, isn't there anything you can do? She's in so much pain. I can't stand to see her like this," he begged. "Please tell me you can do something for her."  
  
Pomfrey chuckled at his distress. "Severus, you know she didn't want to have any potions or Muggle painkillers during delivery and labor. Charms aren't effective and most spells aren't safe. It shouldn't be much longer, she'll be fine, I promise. As soon as she has that baby in her arms, she'll forget she was ever in pain."  
  
He didn't look convinced.  
  
"I was prepared for her to threaten to castrate me and fully prepared for her to swear we'd never have sex again," he whined. "But she's so quiet, she just grits her teeth and --- she doesn't seem to want my help much. She just wants me to hold her hand, I think."  
  
"Sounds like a stoic and brave spy I used to treat for a myriad of injuries in this very room," she said, smiling. "Go, hold your wife's hand and tell her how much you love her. It won't be long before your daughter is here."  
  
"SEVERUS!" came the cry from Hermione's bed. Snape bolted for his wife and took her hand, muttering what comforts he could and feeling stupid and helpless.  
  
Not much time had passed before Hermione was ready to push. Snape remembered a cousin that had spoken of pushing for two hours before becoming so exhausted that she had to have a Caesarian section. Magical or Muggle, that surgery wasn't something he wanted Hermione to have to go through. He shuddered and sent a silent prayer up to whatever deity might be listening, that Faith would make her debut quickly.  
  
She did. Hermione was fortunate and after only 15 minutes of hard pushing, she let out a great scream and Faith entered their world. She fell back onto the pillows of her bed as Poppy checked the baby quickly. Scant seconds later, squirming, red and angrily crying - Faith was laid on her mother's stomach. Poppy moved to the side of the bed and handed Snape a surigical wand. He cut the cord, shaking, and then reached down to touch Faith's tiny hand. Her fingers immediately curled around his index finger in a tight grip.  
  
And Severus Snape was immediately enchanted.  
  
He took a deep breath and looked back at Hermione through tear filled eyes. She was beaming back at him as Poppy assisted her with bringing Faith to her breast for her first feeding. Vaguely, Snape remembered reading in one of their many childbirth books that nursing right after the baby was born promoted a stronger bond between the mother and child. However, looking at his newborn daughter, he couldn't imagine a bond stronger than the one he was currently feeling and attempting to comprehend.  
  
"She's so perfect," whispered Hermione to the mediwitch. "Everything is perfect, right?"  
  
The mediwitch smiled reassuringly at the two new parents and Snape realized a small part of him had been anxiously awaiting that pronouncement. He thought his heart would burst, then, as he saw Faith's tiny rosebud lips seek out and awkwardly clamp down on Hermione's nipple. Hermione winced slightly, but then she turned to give him yet another beaming smile. She held her hand out for him once more and he took it, squeezing.  
  
"Hermione, I don't know what to say," he said, awe filling his voice. "I never thought I deserved to be this happy - and I certainly never thought I would ever feel this way. Thank you. She's so beautiful."  
  
"I love you," she said.  
  
"And I love the two of you so much," he whispered as he lowered his lips to Hermione's and captured them in a passionate and demanding kiss. "Thank you so much for giving me Faith." 


	40. Christmas in the dungeons

Severus Snape sat down in his favorite armchair with a satisfied 'thuwmp.' He sighed and took a long swig of his eggnog and began to nibble on the plate of cookies he had just sat on the end table beside him. He had planned to share the bounty from his raid on the kitchens with Hermione, however, she had fallen asleep with Faith in front of the fire.  
  
Just like he had dreamed. Hermione lay on her side, still in her beautiful crimson and gold dress robes after the formal dinner they had attended with Harry, Ginny and the Weasley clan that evening. Well, as formal as you can get in the Burrow, with children and grandchildren swarming everywhere. Harry and Ginny had their new little girl, Catherine, with them and Draco was a surprise guest with his new American girlfriend - a Muggle girl named Maggie. Hermione had come home exhausted after helping Molly clean up, she had dropped her robes by the door and flopped down on the rug by the fire. Sliding one strap off her shoulder and exposing a breast, she had laid down and pulled Faith close - nursing her to sleep. Hermione was sleeping, herself, one arm under her head as a pillow and the other gently lying on Faith's round tummy. Faith was snoozing snuggled as close to her mother as she could get, one fist clenching Hermione's dress and her pouty lips just about to lose their grip on the nipple.  
  
This holiday was just as he had planned, he mused. Maybe even better. He sighed happily and scanned the formerly neat and orderly living space. Now, aside from the Dumbledorian Christmas decorations that he had so joyfully put up at the beginning of the month, it was home to a stroller, an extra bassinet, a pile of snuggly blankets in a huge basket by the sofa, a Muggle bouncy-walker thing that someone had sent them and more toys than one six- month old girl could need. He smiled to himself - their daughter was fast on her way to becoming spoiled.  
  
"Daughter," he murmured to himself, still smiling. He loved to say that word. He was almost positive that the rest of the Hogwarts staff was getting tired of hearing that word come out of his mouth, too. He had never figured himself to be the type to gush and brag nonstop about his offspring - but he was. So, he whispered it again to himself, "daughter."  
  
Perhaps the next child would be the son his father wanted to carry on the Snape family name. Not that his parents were unhappy with their granddaughter, he thought. They practically worshipped the ground she walked on. But, a son would make everything that was so perfect - also feel complete. Hopefully, this time next year Hermione would be pregnant with their next child. They had decided to try to have two children, at least, and hoped to have them close together. As two only children, they wanted their own children to have a playmate close in age. So, after the first of the year, they were going to start trying yet again. Snape just hoped that it didn't take quite as long to get pregnant this time as the last - then again, he mused, a few months of 'trying'wouldn't be *too* bad.  
  
The fire crackled and popped and it brought Hermione out of her light doze. She adjusted her dress and eased Faith into her arms and carried her to the bassinet, placing her in it with a soft kiss. She came to Snape and sat on his lap, grabbing a cookie and stealing his glass of eggnog for a sip. She cuddled close and laid her head on his chest with a contented sigh of her own.  
  
"Happy, love?" she asked, smiling up at him.  
  
"Happier than I deserve to be," he replied, smiling back.  
  
"Happy Christmas, Severus," she said, toasting him with his eggnog.  
  
He didn't answer, just swept her up in his arms and gently laid her down on the rug before the fire. He took in the picture she made lying underneath him, her beautiful eyes reflecting the light of the fire, her silky gown hiding none of her curves and her curly hair fanning out around her. He smiled softly at her.  
  
"So, Mrs. Snape, what do you think about getting started on Baby Snape Number Two, this fine Christmas Eve?" he said, mischievously. He teasingly ground his hips into her and leaned down to nip at a particularly tasty looking earlobe.  
  
Hermione raised one eyebrow in a very Snapelike gesture. She reached up to slide her arms around his neck and pull his ear to her lips.  
  
"We could do that, Mr. Snape, if I weren't already pregnant," she whispered. "Happy Christmas."  
  
He pulled back in shock, he had been teasing. They hadn't actually been trying since Hermione was still nursing, the chances were fairly low. Apparently, not as low as he had thought. He decided in an instant to be thrilled instead of shocked. He pulled her into a tight hug and possessive, deep kiss.  
  
"That's all right, Hermione," he said, grinning evilly. "That doesn't mean we can't keep trying."  
  
"Good Gods, we'll have twins!" she joked, grabbing him and yanking him down to her demanding lips. He chuckled and let her take control of the encounter, which left the two parents sated and happy in front of the blazing fire of their home. It was indeed a Happy Christmas. The first of many, they hoped. And with that thought, the Snape family fell asleep. 


	41. The circle of time is complete

The day was a sunny and bright for early fall. Far too bright for her old eyes, she thought. The road to Hogsmead was full of students dashing back and forth between the wizarding village and the castle - some had pockets laden with candy and some with jokes and fireworks. The old woman sat near under a tree and watched the commotion, the laughter and the general mayhem that is a "Hogsmeade Saturday." With a narrowed gaze, she watched a few familiar faces scamper past, barely giving the elderly witch a glance as she sat patiently in the late afternoon breeze.  
  
Then, she saw them. The happy trio that was chattering about the tender roast beef that they expected to eat for dinner and who would be the new Gryffindor keeper this season. The old eyes narrowed as they saw the burn mark in Weasley's jeans - a blast hole from a firework, she thought. Well, I have the right day.  
  
The trio began to pass her position under the tree, completely oblivious of the wizard in dark robes following closely behind them or of the old woman brandishing her battered, ancient wand.  
  
"Adeo circulus!" the old witch whispered, before vanishing silently.  
  
Hermione was gone. Ron and Harry turned to look behind them at Professor Snape, before the three quickly began to run to the castle and the Headmaster's office.  
  
The circle was complete.  
  
The old woman reappeared at the door of a neat and tiny cottage just outside of Hogsmeade. She opened the door and slipped inside quietly, so as not to awake her sleeping companion. She tottered into the kitchen and poured two glasses of milk and prepared a plate of cookies on a tray. Moving back to the living room, she set the tray down on the coffee table and moved to open the blinds. Her companion snorted slightly as he awoke.  
  
"Hermione?" he said, quickly coming fully awake. "Is that you, Angel?"  
  
"Yes, I'm back. How was your nap?"  
  
Severus pulled his wife into his lap and smiled broadly at her. She rumpled his fine, silver grey hair and kissed his rosy, sleepy cheek.  
  
"Good. I needed it. I feel like I'm 80 years old again," he teased. "Want to skip the afternoon cookies and go upstairs for some real dessert?"  
  
The old man trailed his fingers through his wife's fading brown hair lovingly as she laughed and swatted at him. Reaching for the glasses of milk and a pair of cookies, she settled back against the sofa arm and leaned into his neck.  
  
"So what was this mysterious errand you had to go on today?" he asked. "What could possibly be so important that it would make you miss our afternoon nap together?"  
  
"That's my secret, Severus. Let an old woman have at least one. We've been married for most of our lives and we share everything, so let me have this one," she said, munching on her cookie.  
  
"Hermione -" he began, attempting to use the "evil potions master tone" with her, to no avail. That voice hadn't worked on her in almost 90 years.  
  
"Let's just say that I completed my errand in plenty of time," she said mysteriously, raising her hand to stop his next interruption. "It was something that I had to do, Severus. Trust me on this."  
  
"I do trust you, love. I do."  
  
Severus looked at his wife. Time had changed both of them. He was celebrating his 130th birthday this year and she was pushing 110 years. Not terribly ancient by wizarding standards, but they were both still aware that they had more days behind them than were left to them. And they had the loads of grandchildren and great-grandchildren to prove it, too. With her graying brown hair, wrinkles and little rounded tummy, she was still breathtakingly beautiful to him. He suddenly grinned.  
  
"Hermione, do you remember that crimson and gold gown and dress robes you used to wear?" he said with a gleam in his eye. She nodded. "Do you think you could still fit into it?"  
  
She waved her wand and her black robes turned to faded crimson and gold silk.  
  
"Now, love, shall we go upstairs and take those off?" said Severus.  
  
"Aren't we getting just a tad too old for this?" his wife of nearly a century asked, grinning.  
  
"I'll never be too old to love you, Hermione. And besides, we're retired and the kids are on their own, we have all the time in the world," he said, murmuring a levitating charm so he could easily carry her weight up the stairs.  
  
Hermione wrapped her arms around her husband's neck and nuzzled him gently.  
  
"Yes we do, Severus, we have all the time in the world."  
  
  
  
The End. 


End file.
